The Life of Another
by Demosthenes23
Summary: Sergeant William Murdoch of the NWMP has had a hard life. Growing increasingly frustrated with his job, he decides to quit. But before he can, he meets a fiery young lady, one who is likely to change his life forever.
1. An Unusual Meeting

Vancouver had been his home for the past thirteen years, ever since his mother had passed away in a tragic accident. His father had been so distraught by her sudden passing that he had packed his two young children up and travelled as far away as he could get from Nova Scotia (and with any luck, the bad memories). But it was no use. It didn't matter that they were over four thousand kilometres away. The painful remembrances would always find a way back into his father's troubled mind. And so he drank to excess and fought with anyone who even looked at him funny.

The beatings started when he was just eleven years old. Though his father had tried to strike his sister, he would never allow it, distracting the brute like a bull and bringing the onslaught onto himself. For years he retreated into the corners of his own mind, in order to cope with his situation. He never fought back, it was not in his nature. As such, he remained a very quiet, reserved individual. Needless to say, William and Susannah's adolescent years had been less than nurturing. Murdoch prayed every single day that Harry simply wouldn't return home from his evening binges at the local pub, that someone would just kill him during one of his skirmishes. Then when he was fourteen, his prayers were finally answered. But not in the way that he had expected. His father simply disappeared. The few mounties involved in keeping the peace didn't have a very high opinion of Harry and so the most miniscule of searches was conducted. As a result, Murdoch never knew what had become of his father, and sad as it is to say, he didn't care in the slightest. He was just glad that the terror had finally come to an end.

Shortly after this, the siblings were taken in at the orphanage. It was run by a bunch of stern but fair Catholic nuns. It was here that Murdoch had access to a rather large supply of books that were recently donated by a charitable individual (one who had passed away). The man had apparently been a purveyor of all knowledge and as such the collection covered a wide variety of topics. Murdoch devoured it all. He knew that they would be let go in a few years time and expected to fend for themselves because space was limited. If he was to have any hope of getting a decent job, he thought it best if he knew as much as possible about everything.

When he was seventeen he officially became the man of the house (though really he had been for years even though Harry had still been around) and so it was up to him to fully provide for both of them. Though he was just a teenager, he had the mind of a very intelligent adult. Because of this, he was able to persuade Sergeant Major Michael Jackson to take him on as a new recruit, even though he wasn't technically old enough. In the ensuing months he learned to shoot and ride as well as the rest of them, as though he had been born to the role, impressing some but annoying most.

More than one young lady was quite smitten with him. His handsome features only seemed to be accentuated by the bold red of his uniform, especially when he was astride his own lovely horse, showing off his impressive lassoing skills (as he caught the occasional criminal, not because he was performing for them). As such, they followed him around like a bunch of lovesick puppies, oohing and ahhing over every little thing he did. But it was no matter. Murdoch had no interest in them. In fact, he found them to be quite tiresome and wished they would leave him alone and let him do his job in peace. He would have arrested them if they ever really got in his way, but as of yet, they had kept their distance. Besides which, he was slightly afraid of what would happen to him if he descended from his horse in order to do so. Would they all attack him in a wild frenzy, as if they were cougars and he was an injured deer?

With the exception of his mother and sister, the opposite sex had always mystified him. A lot of the time he couldn't make heads or tails out of their words. There always seemed to be hidden meaning behind everything they said. As such, he rarely mingled with them at the various church functions every few weeks, preferring to keep to himself. One may wonder why he went in the first place. Partly, he considered it his duty as a good Catholic boy, but mostly it was so he could keep an eye on his sister. Just like him, she was admired by many (as she had the singing voice of an angel) and Murdoch often worried about her, even within the confines of the church. It was no wonder he felt this way, she was all he had left. If anything bad ever befell her and he could have done something to stop it, he would never forgive himself. And so it was that he kept an eye on Susannah whenever he could (which was unfortunately not very often given all of his patrol duties).

Within four years he had risen through the ranks and found himself one of, if not thee youngest Sergeant in NWMP (Northwest Mounted Police) history. Almost as soon as he acquired his new status, he was met with his first solo case, and it was proving to be a most puzzling one. To make matters worse, his protege, Constable Jackson, was quite incompetent and only seemed to halt the investigation, even when Murdoch gave him as little to do as possible. He would have tried to get rid of the slightly older, rotund man except that he was the son of Murdoch's superior and as such, his hands were tied.

Conventional methods of investigation were getting him nowhere. No one seemed to know anything about what had happened to the deceased. And so Murdoch was forced to try something completely new, something no one there had ever heard of before or really even understood. Murdoch took the fingermarks of everyone he had spoken to, (by using a little ink and paper) and using his magnifying glass, compared them to those found at the scene of the crime (specifically those found on the murder weapon). It wasn't long before he found a match. However, when he went to Major Jackson with this information, he was met with extreme resistance (and Murdoch quickly learned, confusion).

"What the devil are you going on about man!" exclaimed the Major. He waved the piece of paper around. "What does this little smudge have to do with anything?"

"As I've tried to explain, sir," replied Murdoch calmly, even though he was quite thrilled with his discovery, "that little fingermark is proof of Simpson's guilt." The major looked at him uncomprehending so he continued. "I've been doing some reading and come across a very interesting technique in the scientific journal _Nature_. Dr. Henry Faulds proposed a method of obtaining a persons fingermarks with ink in order to compare them to those left behind on inanimate objects. I have done the same thing with this case and have concluded that Simpson is the murderer."

The Major narrowed his eyes at that. "And what exactly is a fingermark, Murdoch?"

He realized then that in his excitement, he had forgotten to explain the essentials.

"Our finger tips have a natural oil on the surface and when we touch things, that oil is left behind in a specific pattern dictated by the ridges. This pattern is unique to everyone."

Jackson looked incredulous. "What do you mean, _everyone_? How could they be different for everyone?"

Murdoch felt quite inept at answering this basic question.

"Well, sir, I don't know exactly, but-"

The Major laughed. "You want me to grant an arrest when you don't even fully understand your own evidence?"

Trying to salvage the situation, he said, "The question isn't _why_ the fingermarks are different, sir, but rather that they _are._"

"According to who?"

"There are many who have noticed this phenomenon over the years, sir, and if you simply took the time to look yourself, you'd see-"

"I don't want to hear anymore about this nonsense, Murdoch!"

"But, sir!" he exclaimed, finally losing his temper.

"That's an order, Sergeant!"

Without another word, Murdoch stormed out of there.

* * *

This sort of confrontation eventually became quite common place for the two men. So much so that the Major threatened to have him removed from the NWMP if he didn't desist in what he considered to be extremely 'delusional' behaviour. Murdoch half thought of quitting himself. He was tired of being treated like an imbecile. The problem was that he needed the money in order to support both him and his sister, and since NWMP didn't pay much and the cost of living was expensive here, they were only ever getting by, so there was no way he had time to find another job and start all over. Not unless they moved somewhere else. But again, they had to have the money in order to do so.

Then one day, this ceased to be an issue. Susannah had informed him that she was going to become a nun, specifically a cloistered nun.

"Are you sure?" he asked his nineteen year old sister slowly. "Once you go down that road, there is no turning back."

"I'm sure, William," she responded in her quiet manner. "In fact, I believe I've always known that this was God's plan for me."

"Why have you never said anything before?"

She looked away. "I suppose I didn't want to leave you alone. Not after everything we've been through together. Not after everything you've done for me."

He took her hand in his. "Susannah, look at me." She did so hesitatingly as tears had started to form. "I don't want you to think that you owe me anything. I did what I thought was right, what any decent brother would have done. I did my duty, nothing more. But you have your own life to live and I would never want to stand in the way of that. Of course I will be sad to see you go-"

At this she threw her arms around him and started to sob. Murdoch teared up as well and simply stroked her hair gently just like he used to do as a boy when Harry had frightened her.

"It took a lot of courage to finally tell me this, sister. I'm proud of you."

Eventually she calmed down and pulled away slightly, staring into his chocolate coloured eyes. It seemed like she had something else to say but after another few seconds she simply smiled weakly and headed to her room. Already her self imposed exile had begun.

* * *

With his sister gone, he was able to save some money up and was free to leave. But something stopped him, or rather, someone. During what was supposed to have been his last shift, (before handing in his resignation) he came across a stunning sight. A young woman had just struck a man hard enough to make him fall over and she was now swearing at him quite profusely and most unladylike. A small crowd had gathered. Quickly he rode over to investigate further, Constable Jackson failing to keep up.

"What seems to be the matter?" he called as he approached.

The woman turned around to face Murdoch and he was again stunned. This time by her beauty.

"You sure took your time getting here constable!"

Rather than correct her, he said with some difficulty as his throat had gone dry, "Terribly sorry, miss. But now that I am here, can someone tell me what happened?"

The man on the ground (one Trevor Sandhill, a well to do business man with a penchant for inappropriate behaviour) started to get up and shouted, "This harpy assaulted me! That's what!"

The woman turned to face him again, scowled and clenched her fists. "Don't pretend like you didn't deserve it! You pig!"

"How dare you talk to me like that! Do you know who I am?"

"Yes I do! You're a big..." she poked his chest, "fat..." she poked it again, this time harder, "pig!"

Mr. Sandhill was absolutely livid and it was only a matter of time before he struck her. Murdoch dismounted with ease and hurriedly separated them, having his partner hold her back if necessary.

"Now, sir, please tell me what happened here."

The woman huffed loudly. "Of course you only want to hear _his_ version of events! All you men are the same!"

He ignored that comment and continued to wait for Mr. Sandhill's testimony.

"Well, Sergeant, I was going about my day, minding my own business, when I saw that this young lady was clearly lost and in need of directions. I simply tried to help her and then she attacked me!"

"That's a bald faced lie!" she shrieked from behind Jackson.

"Why would she do that?" he enquired politely.

"I have no idea," he said smugly.

"Thank you, sir," Murdoch said. Then he turned his back on Mr. Sandhill and stared into the lovely but angry eyes of the stranger. "If you'd be so kind as to come with me miss-"

"You can't be serious! You're going to arrest me?! Without even hearing my side of the story?!"

Murdoch didn't say anything and instead lightly took her arm, leaving Jackson to tend to both of their horses. She resisted at first but then sighed and let herself be led away. Once they had gone a few blocks he stopped abruptly and released her arm. She looked at him inquiringly.

"I suggest you stay away from that part of town for the duration of your stay here. Mr. Sandhill is likely to try something again, given the slightest chance."

The woman raised her eyebrows at that. "You knew this whole time, didn't you?"

"Of course, miss. This isn't exactly the first complaint against him."

Her expression softened for a second and then she frowned. "So you just let him go around doing as he pleases?!"

Murdoch looked apologetic. "I'm afraid it's out of my hands. There is no law against getting a little too...familiar with the opposite sex. Even if I did arrest him for indecent behaviour, he'd just walk free within the hour. Believe me, I have tried...on more than one occasion."

"But that's ridiculous!"

He nodded once. "I agree completely."

She sized him up then and said, "You're awfully young to be a Sergeant. You can't be more than twenty-five!"

"Indeed," he said smiling for the first time. "I am twenty-three. And how old are you?"

The woman made an incredulous face at him. "Don't you know better than to ask a lady that?"

"Ah," said Murdoch embarrassed, "apparently not."

She laughed at his expression, the sound like music to his ears.

"Well, Sergeant, luckily for you, I don't consider myself much of a lady. I've just turned twenty one and in fact, that is the reason I am here." He raised an eyebrow at that in confusion. "What I meant to say is that this is a sort of last hurrah before I cross the border in order to further my studies."

"Studies?"

"I'm going to be a doctor."

She said it as if it were a common statement, as if it were the most natural thing in the world and not highly unlikely.

"I see."

"You don't think I can do it, do you?"

"Statistically speaking-"

"Oh what rubbish! Statistics be damned!"

"You didn't let me finish, miss. What I was going to say is that, yes, it is very unlikely that you will succeed, but given the little I have seen of you," -he smiled- "I believe you might just beat the odds."

She genuinely smiled at him and his heart beat a little faster.

"I'm Julia," she said, holding out her hand, "Julia Ogden."

He took it and said, "Sergeant William Murdoch, at your service."

They looked at each other closely then and he got lost in her bluish green eyes so that it was a complete shock to him when he heard someone clearing their throat nearby. Murdoch blinked a few times, noticed Julia doing the same, realized he was still holding her hand, dropped it hastily and glanced over his shoulder to find Jackson grinning at him stupidly.

Murdoch cleared his throat and said, "Well, I must be off." He hopped on his saddle. "Take care now." And assuming he didn't see her again for whatever reason, he said, "Good luck with your studies."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

Then he whipped his horse sideways and continued his beat, all the while unable to think of anything other than her. For the first time in a long time, he felt a change was coming, one that filled him with trepidation...and hope.


	2. A Sealed Fate

Murdoch had never felt this way before. His thoughts were consumed with one topic and one topic only. Her. The closest he had ever come to such a sensation was when he became particularly immersed in a new, fascinating journal. But even that was a pale comparison to what he was now experiencing. He _had_ to get to know her better, he just had to. His mind (and he felt embarrassed to admit it, even to himself) and his body demanded it of him.

So for the next three days, he would find an excuse to head back into that part of town and look for her. Once or twice he had thought he had seen her but upon closer examination, was proven to be wrong. Murdoch tried all the hotels in the area but to his dismay, she was not listed on the registers for any of them. He had also asked around but no one seemed to know anything about a Julia Ogden. Eventually he came to the conclusion that either she had given him a false name (for whatever reason), or she was simply in a different part of Vancouver. He wasn't sure which one he hoped for. Either way it would probably be nearly impossible to find her, given the little he knew about her.

The rest of the week went by and he did his duty, though only half heartedly. If things had gone according to plan, he would be in an entirely different province by now, looking for whatever took his fancy; starting over. Instead he was in his own personal hell, unable to move forward, literally stuck to the spot. He knew it was only a matter of time before she headed to the States. Once that happened, it would be years before she permanently came back, _if_ she came back. Many Canadian students of medicine decided to stay across the border as it was easier to find work as a doctor, and it paid better there too.

He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her again but he was having no luck finding her. Finally when his desperation was paramount, (though he hid this as best as possible) _she_ found _him_.

Murdoch was busy filling out some paperwork, not really paying attention to it, when there was a knock at his door. Lazily he looked up, expecting it to be Jackson with yet another idiotic question. He couldn't have been more wrong. There she was, like a long sought after apparition, come to glorious life! Reflexively (but with some difficulty as his facial muscles were not overly accustomed to the strain) he broke into a huge smile and she returned it.

"I take it this is a welcome interruption then, Sergeant?"

Paperwork completely forgotten, he stood up and said, "Yes, very welcome."

Then because he couldn't stop himself, he walked over to her, in order to be as close as propriety allowed. She smelled of lavender and musk but the scent was by no means overbearing, it was just above the level of detectability. Even so, he found it to be quite stimulating and wanted more than ever to touch her. However, he had enough of his wits left to him to continue to restrain himself. After all, she was still virtually a stranger! And wasn't the reason for their meeting due to just such an inappropriate manoeuvre? Surely he was better than Mr. Sandhill? With that thought in mind, he came back to his senses and refocused on the vision before him.

Apparently she had caught a certain glint in his eye for she said a little uncomfortably, "Is everything all right?"

"Absolutely," he muttered, embarrassed.

Somewhat reassured she gestured towards his desk. "Any chance you'll be finished soon?"

"A very high chance. I just finished a short while ago."

"Really?" she said, arcing an eyebrow. "It certainly didn't seem like that when I came in."

"Well, it's the truth," he said lying.

She looked at him carefully for another few seconds and then shrugged. Casually she asked him, "Would you care to go to dinner then?"

He was rather taken aback. Not so much by the boldness of the question (though it did shock him a bit) but more because _she_ had asked _him_! With the exception of his failed forensic approaches, he considered himself a very traditional man. He wasn't sure what to think about her modern behaviours. Did he really want to get involved with a woman who assaulted men (even if they deserved it), planned on being a doctor (which he regarded as a loftier title than his own) and seemingly took the reigns on whatever else came her way (including him)? Could he truly handle such an intense person, he who had very little experience with women?

Again she caught his expression. This time she looked apologetic as she glanced away. "I'm sorry. I have a habit of overstepping my boundaries."

The fact that she recognized this was encouraging to him. Besides, hadn't he been dying for just such an opportunity all week? Was he really going to turn her down _now_ because his self pride had been slightly wounded?

"It's quite all right, Julia," When he said her name, she looked up again and smiled. He held his arm out. "Shall we?"

As they walked towards a restaurant of his choosing he couldn't help but say, "You're a very hard person to find."

Glancing at him sideways, with a slight smirk, "Did you go looking for me, Sergeant?" He didn't respond. "I'm flattered."

Again he couldn't stop himself. "May I ask where you were?"

"Everywhere." Murdoch gave her a puzzled look so she elaborated. "I'm a tourist remember?"

"Yes, of course."

How could he have been so stupid as to have overlooked that glaringly obvious detail? One thing seemed quite sure. He would never be a very good detective.

* * *

Dinner had gone by in a blur. They talked and laughed and drank to their hearts content. He had never spoken so freely with a woman before, but with Julia, he felt liberated, or maybe it was simply the drink? Normally he never touched alcohol because of the effect it had had on his father, but in this case, he made an exception. She was a singularly intelligent woman and shared a lot of the same interests as him, at least in so far as to the scientific things. He was quite pleased to be able to converse in this manner and she seemed to be too.

The only slight hiccup in an otherwise lovely time was when the conversation had fallen on their families. He did his best to be as vague as possible, especially in relation to Harry and because of this, her suspicions were raised. But she had enough decency and common sense not to pry into the matter further.

This is what he learned about her family. Her mother, Mary, was also deceased, though it had been much more recent for her. He offered his condolences. Her sister, Ruby, was apparently quite the wild child. If Julia was saying this, he shuddered to think how out of control she could get, especially now that their mother was no longer there to tame her. Though she had tried to hide it, he discovered that she was from a rich family. Her father (who didn't approve of her lifestyle choices and so she wasn't very close with him) owned several controlling interests in various different banks in and around the Toronto area.

"Why are you so embarrassed by your wealth?" he had asked her.

"It's not so much that I am embarrassed, William, but rather that I don't like to be associated with something I have no control over, especially something I don't consider to be of particular import. I didn't ask to be born into my family, it just happened."

Thinking about his own father he had said, "Yes, I believe I understand your feelings quite well."

Seriously, "And there is the other issue as well."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

Somewhat hesitatingly, "Once a man knows of my wealth, it's hard to tell if he is interested in me...or my money."

Surprising both of them he had replied, "Couldn't it be both?"

She stared at him for a moment and he was about to apologize when she burst out laughing.

"Yes, I suppose it could," she replied afterwards. "Tell me, William, do you fall under this most prestigious of categories?"

"I care little for money."

He knew as soon as he said it that this wasn't entirely true. Previously, when his sister had still been under his care, the topic of wealth had been all he could think about some days. If he had simply made more money, they wouldn't have had to worry so much about their future. But even so, he had never compromised himself or his beliefs in order to get ahead in life. He could have married several young ladies that were very well off (and infatuated with him, or more likely, his uniform) but had always immediately dismissed the notion, even if it would have meant securing his sisters comfort for all time. Murdoch would only marry for the deepest of loves and nothing else. He thought Susannah would have done the same but now he could never know for sure. She was promised to the Lord for the rest of her days.

Julia observed him closely then. "That's what you say now but once it's been dropped in your lap, I doubt you'd feel the same way."

"You don't know me very well then."

She eyed him coyly, playing with the end of her long auburn braid in her gloved fingertips. "And how do you plan on rectifying that, Sergeant?"

Women had flirted with him before but he had either been oblivious to it or had pretended to be. As such, he was unsure of how to respond. So he didn't.

"William?" she asked, confused by his silence.

In that instant he made up his mind. It was his turn to be bold, outrageously so.

"Would you care to go somewhere more private?" he half whispered.

Neither had completely finished their meal. In fact, the food was only half eaten.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise, quickly lowered it and smiled. "I would like nothing more."

* * *

He led her by the hand in a hurried manner. They were not quite running but it was faster than a brisk walk. They laughed all the while. Within minutes they were in a secluded spot of a forest, one in which Murdoch had rarely had occasion to break up a tryst in. Only once before, during his first year on the job, had he caught some lovers in the act after several noise complaints had been issued. He had recently turned eighteen and a few months prior, on a whim, had read up on such things in order to understand what the big deal was, but even so, found it to be quite the shock to see such carnal things in reality. His face had flushed in embarrassment, not unlike what it was doing now, except now it was caused by a mixture of alcohol and the stirrings of arousal.

Murdoch watched as she yanked off her gloves and tossed them to the ground. He pulled his broad rimmed hat off and then grabbed her hand, drawing her to him, letting her musky odour envelope his senses, further fuelling his desire. He stared into her increasingly darkening eyes, and then without another thought, brought their lips together, sealing his fate forever.


	3. An Unexpected Occurrence

A full day later he was still trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He had been the most blissful he had ever been that night, holding her so close, caressing her body (fully clothed), breathing in her ravishing aroma. It had felt like an eternity but had likely only been a few minutes. And then all of a sudden she had pulled away, with glistening eyes, said she was sorry and quickly left without another word. He had been so stunned by this abrupt conclusion to their sensual exploits that he had simply stood there, open mouthed, brain and body frozen to the spot. By the time he came back to his senses and chased after her for an explanation, she was nowhere to be found.

Murdoch would have continued the search all night if he could have but around that point he had become extremely nauseous and had gotten sick all over the sidewalk. It appeared that his liquid courage (and dinner) had decided to depart ways with him, just like she had. The disgusting purging continued until there was nothing left of his insides, until his guts had been ripped forth from his abdomen, until he felt like a hollow shell of a man.

With Julia's trail completely cold and still feeling unwell, he trudged back to his apartment and collapsed in a heap on his bed, passing out only seconds later.

* * *

In the morning he had the worst headache he had ever had. It was even worse than the time he had been chloroformed by two con artists looking to make a break for it after Murdoch had cornered them. Jackson had been nowhere to be found, as usual, and so he had been ill equipped to deal with the two of them on his own. He felt ill equipped to deal with the current situation and he wasn't referring to his hangover.

The previous nights memories came flooding back to him all at once. It was enough to make him slightly light headed, but in a good way. He let himself linger on the passion of that experience and how happy she had seemed.

So why had she run off? What had he done to make her leave?

He hoped the reason lay somewhere in the realm of too much too soon. Even one such as he, so inexperienced in such matters as these, knew that things had gotten out of hand for a first date. The more he thought about it that day at work, the more he came to regret the liberties he had taken with her. Yes they had discussed a variety of different topics that evening but even so, they were still virtually strangers.

In some ways she had acted no better than a whore. The second he thought it, he dismissed it, furious with himself for such an unfair comparison. If she was a whore, then he was even more of one. It had been his idea to take her there, to have his way with her, to succumb to his carnal desires, to well and truly become a man. It was him who had been weak, going against his beliefs and his better judgement, allowing something other than his brain to do the thinking. Since he had little control over that aspect of his person, of human nature, he settled for a compromise. From that day forward, he swore he'd never drink again.

* * *

The first work day since their encounter in the woods had come to an end. Now he was free to go looking for her again, to apologize for his behaviour. However, before he could go anywhere, he noticed something on his desk.

Murdoch looked at the envelope with trepidation. He had a pretty good idea of what was written within, or at least thought he did. However there was no point delaying the inevitable so he sat down and carefully tore the envelope open.

_"Dearest William, _

_I am sure you have many questions to ask of me but I believe this to be the best way to explain myself. _

_To begin with, I had a lovely time last night, so do not blame yourself for my flight. I'm sorry I did that, but the truth is that I should never have sought you out in the first place. I apologize if that comes across as harsh sounding. Let me explain further. When we first met I felt there was something there, something worth exploring. I tried to deny this fact and travelled around the city, trying to forget about you. But I simply couldn't. So I gave in to my curiousity. Needless to say, you didn't disappoint, far from it. It was only when things were getting serious in the woods that I truly realized just how grievously I had erred. What do I mean by this, you may ask?_

_ As I told you before, I am going to become a doctor. That is what I must focus on. I have wanted this my whole life, William. I have already fought so hard just to get to this point but I know it is nothing in comparison to what lies ahead. I hope you can understand...and forgive me in time. _

_ Do not attempt to go looking for me again. By the time you have read this letter, I will have already crossed the border._

_ Sincerely, Julia"_

To say he was crushed by this blow would be a great understatement. Much like the previous night, he felt hollowed out, only part of what he used to be, as if a piece of his soul were missing.

How could this be? How was he expected to continue on without her?

Momentarily he got angry. He crushed the paper still in his hands. Why had she come into his life at all, only to leave immediately? Why had she put him through that? How could she be so thoughtless?

Then he remembered her struggle and stopped blaming her. If he had been in her place, he would have done the same thing and probably much sooner than she did.

Shouldn't he just be thankful for the time they _did_ have together, however brief? Even if things had went differently that night, she _still_ would have left to continue her studies, Murdoch was sure of that. Besides, it wasn't like he'd never see her again, right? It was easier said than done to believe this.

With little else to do, he found himself aimlessly wandering the streets, head bowed over, oblivious to everything around him. When he finally looked up, he realized he was just outside the forest. Subconsciously he must have been heading here the whole time.

He made his way back to the spot from the previous night. Picking up his hat, he dusted it off a bit before placing it upon his head. Then he squinted in the gloom for something else. Yes, there they were!

Murdoch crouched down and retrieved the white gloves from a bushes low hanging branch. He did so slowly, so as not to rip them on the semi-sharp edges. He then brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply, satisfied that her scent was still lingering. Standing up, he placed them in his pocket and with one last mournful look around, made his way out.

He would have wallowed in self misery for weeks, possibly months after if something wholly unexpected hadn't occurred.


	4. What Lies Beneath

The body had been found in a crude grave on the rather expansive property of Miles Davis. Mr. Davis (or rather his labourers) had been attempting to install pipes (for indoor plumbing) from the main house to the guest house quite a distance away. As one can imagine, the cost of such an endeavour was staggering. But Mr. Davis was an eccentric man who spared no expense when it came to the comfort of his frequent patrons. He was quite shocked by this gruesome discovery, at least initially.

"I just can't believe it, Sergeant," he muttered over and over again after Murdoch introduced himself. "How could this have happened?"

"That is what I aim to find out, sir." After a slight pause he continued, "Mr. Davis, how long have you resided here?"

"Oh, since 18...1869."

_So fifteen years then._

"And how long has the guest house been present?"

He thought about that for a moment. "Hmm, I suppose for the past ten years."

"You're not sure?"

"Well, it was so long ago."

Murdoch wrote _timeline?_ in his notepad.

"Of course. Tell me, sir, do you keep a record of all guests?"

"Yes, we have a log book where people can leave a little anecdote about their stay here." His face slackened and he appeared ill. "Are you insinuating that one of my _guests_ is the murder victim?"

_It seems likely considering the relative proximity to the guest house._

"Do you recall anyone disappearing in an unexplained manner?"

Davis frowned. "Of course not. Don't you think I would have reported something like that?" His eyes narrowed. "You think _I_ had something to do with this, don't you?"

_It is too early for such a judgement. Besides, to bury the body on his own property seems unlikely._

"Not at all, sir."

Davis seemed slightly reassured by this statement but was still sour.

"Would I be able to see this book?"

"I don't see why not."

"Very good, sir." Another pause, "Until this case has been solved, I'm afraid I must ask you to cease all further digging."

"What for?" he blurted out.

Murdoch frowned at him slightly. "There's no telling what evidence lies beneath and I can't risk any of it being damaged."

"And how long do you expect this investigation to _take_? I had rather hoped to have this finished in time for the winter months."

_You self absorbed..._

Murdoch glared at him now. "It will take as long as it takes, Mr. Davis, no more, no less. Do I have your word that you will desist in tampering with the crime scene and surrounding area?"

Begrudgingly the man replied, "Of course, Sergeant, whatever you need to get down to the bottom of this most heinous act."

With their interview concluded, Murdoch walked back over to the body to take a closer look. Judging by the amount of decomposition, that is to say, total decomposition, the body had been here for quite some time. There was nary a piece of flesh to be seen, only the skeleton remained. Well, most of it anyway. The right side of the skull (just above and back a bit from where the ear would have been) had been severely fractured by several massive blows. (He knew that they must have been massive since portions of the skull were missing and it took a lot of force to completely break off pieces). Possibly these tiny fragments were simply in the surrounding dirt somewhere, but only time would tell when he conducted a slow, methodical excavation of the grave site.

The only thing Murdoch could say for certain was that the deceased was male. At least, his tattered clothing strongly indicated this. Murdoch knew that there were some rather liberal women in and around Europe who wore trousers, but the likelihood of such a thing happening here was almost unfathomable. However, he didn't completely rule out the possibility from his mind. As well, it seemed likely that the killer had been left handed since all the blows were to the right side. But again, this might not be the case if the killer had attacked from behind.

For once Jackson was doing his job. As he approached, Murdoch stood up to hear his report.

"What have you Charles?"

"Well, sir, them workers don't know nothin'. (Even though Charles was Canadian through and through, and had no British accent to speak of, he often times spoke like one of the lower class from that realm. No one knew why he had started speaking like this, except for maybe God). "They've only recently been hired by Mr. Davis."

"And what of the other members of the household? What did they have to say about this?"

"They don't know nothin' neither."

"I see," he said, annoyed but unsurprised. "Now, please locate a large box or blanket."

"What for?" Jackson asked, echoing Mr. Davis.

Murdoch sighed internally. "We will need a way to transport the remains back to the morgue."

"Why the chuffin' 'ell would we wanna do that?"

He took a moment to control his annoyance before responding. "So the coroner can examine them."

Jackson was incredulous. "Whatchoo expect to find from a bunch of ol' bones?"

Quite aggravated he rubbed his forehead and said sternly, "Charles, just do as I say."

Jackson shrugged and was on his way. It took him so long to complete this simple task that Murdoch almost went looking for him. Finally Jackson returned with two medium sized baskets. They looked to be picnic baskets. Murdoch's patience was almost at an end so he roughly took one out of his hand without a word and gently lowered himself into the two foot deep hole. Within ten minutes most bone fragments had been collected, including some smaller bits that had not been apparent from above as they had been covered by the rest of the skeleton. It was several more hours before Murdoch was satisfied that they had uncovered everything of relevance.

The next most practical avenue to explore: those of the deceased's teeth, or rather his dental records. Knowing the name of the victim would be instrumental in determining who killed him. So Murdoch made a mold of the dead man's teeth and deposited it at the local barbarian's office. Simon would get back to him when he had compared it to his records.

* * *

The coroner was an uppity old man that didn't like to do anything that he hadn't thought of himself. Murdoch was well aware of this by now so instead of making any suggestions, he simply placed the body of the skeleton on the man's slab and left. Then he went back to the precinct to begin putting the skull back together. He assumed it would be something like a jigsaw puzzle and not too difficult to figure out.

Two hours later Simon called Murdoch to inform him that he had no record of this particular individual.

_Great, just great_, thought Murdoch.

Two hours after that, and after the glue had dried with the aid of a heating lamp, Murdoch examined the result under his trusty magnifying glass. It appeared that his efforts had not uncovered any additional clues, nor had he expected this to be the case. He simply liked things to be neat and tidy and complete, and that is why he had laboured in this regard. Plus, he didn't have much else to do until the coroner was finished examining the bones and the man always took forever to do_ anything,_ (especially where Murdoch was concerned) even when he wanted to.

While the glue had been drying, Murdoch had examined some of the clothing fibers for trace evidence. There was none, or at least, if there had been, it must have been biological in nature and completely degraded. But he had determined something else of interest. The fabrics quality was rather poor and not the kind of thing one would expect from the sorts staying at the guest house. However, he didn't tell Jackson and the other constables this as they were currently poring over the many guest books, (the first dated 1873, one year earlier than Davis had thought) looking for any names that popped out at them. As of yet, everyone was coming up empty.

* * *

Finally the coroner rang Murdoch to tell him that he was ready for him. Other than confirming that the deceased was male, and that he had been dead for at least one year, (but judging by the state of his clothing, it was much longer) he was able to say with some certainty that the man had at one point had several broken fingers and ribs, some of which had not healed fully before his death.

"I might have been able to tell you more," Horace said in his surly manner, "but you kept the damn skull for yourself!"

"Yes, well, you can have it now, I am finished with it."

"Oh, how _thoughtful_ of you, Murdoch, giving me your rejects." They stared (Horace glared) at each other for a moment. "That's it then," he gestured to the picnic basket in Murdoch's hand, "the skull?"

Murdoch nodded once, took it out and gently positioned it above the rest of the body.

The coroner took a cursory glance and said, "Nasty blows. I imagine he would have died within seconds, if not instantly."

"Indeed."

Though the old man didn't say anything, Murdoch sensed that he was impressed with his work. Deciding to end on a good note for once, he left.

* * *

Since it was quite obvious by now that the guest books were of little use to them until they had a better idea of _who_ the deceased was, he gave up on that endeavour. Murdoch closed the door to his office, shut the blinds and brooded in near darkness. Several hours must have gone by before the spark of an idea began to form (so long because he kept actually brooding on another matter, one with lovely auburn hair). Its brilliance grew brighter and brighter until a full fledged light bulb switched on.

Quickly he rummaged through his meagre supply of personal books. When he found the one in question, he flipped through the pages.

_Aha! I thought so!_

The German anatomist Hermann Welcker had recently published his findings on two dimensional techniques for comparing Raphael's skull with a self portrait. He had carefully made outlines and then superimposed them, making allowances for tissue depth. Though Murdoch had no such portrait to go by, the tissue depth measurements could come in handy. However, while construction of the skull may not have been too tricky (in so far as it was more tedious than anything), Murdoch didn't think he'd have much luck completing an accurate facial reconstruction considering his meagre anatomical knowledge and pathetic arts and crafts skills. This meant he had to get Horace to do it for him. And that meant he had to trick the coroner into doing it by making him think _he_ had come up with the idea.

* * *

After asking Horace if he had discovered anything new, (to which he got the predictable negative grumble) he said, "Doctor, it appears someone has left you a present."

"What are you going on about, Murdoch?" he enquired in his usual grumpy manner.

"The package, doctor, the package."

"What package?"

"The one on your desk."

Trying not to let his curiousity show, Horace went over and took a look. As Murdoch was well aware, the note said, _"Horace, old boy, it's been too long! Recently I had reason to think of you and decided to send you a belated birthday present. I dare say you will find it as fascinating as I did (assuming your wits are still intact). Please read the enclosed thoroughly and then get back to me with your impressions. Cheers, Wilson."_

Wilson was a former colleague of Horace's that the latter had accidentally mentioned once or twice in Murdoch's presence. The two had apparently had a rivalry of sorts for many years, always trying to show up the other. Murdoch had no clue if this is how they talked to one another, and his modified handwriting was certainly not the same, but it was the best he could come up. Such ridiculous schemes as these were becoming too common place for his liking and was yet another reason why he had wanted to quit. If Murdoch asked Horace to do something outright, he would make a lengthy fuss and take forever to get around to doing his job, (even longer than usual which was saying something) or even worse, he'd simply ignore Murdoch's request altogether. If Murdoch complained about his behaviour to the Major, he would never hear the end of it from the coroner. And as Murdoch's patience was not what it once was, he was afraid he'd try to strangle the man if this ever occurred again.

In any case, Murdoch's gamble appeared to have paid off. Horace was now muttering, "Thinks my wits are too dull, eh? Well, I'll show him! The bastard!"

Since this case was already so cold as to be frozen, a few days wait was no big issue for Murdoch (although Mr. Davis would beg to disagree). On the third day, Horace made a rare visit to his office. He was absolutely beaming. The effect was a bit unnerving to Murdoch as he had never seen him like this before.

"Well, Sergeant, I believe I have just made a rather useful discovery!"

"Oh?" Murdoch said politely. "And what would that be, doctor?"

Horace launched into a long description of the facial reconstruction methods outlined in the book. "So you see," he concluded, "I can remake the man's face! In fact, I already have!" Then he muttered, "Wait till I show that hack Wilson!"

"That's wonderful," said Murdoch, ignoring that last comment. "May I see it now?"

"Yes," he said, retrieving the finished product from one of those picnic baskets they had borrowed from Mr. Davis.

Murdoch took one look at the head and lost all colour from his face. It was Harry!


	5. Thoughts Abound

"Sir, I ask that you please take me off this case."

The Major looked at him like he was crazy. Murdoch had never asked such a thing before in all their years working together.

"Explain," he said simply.

"It's recently come to my attention that the deceased was...my father."

"Dear God!" he exclaimed. "Are you sure?"

"Quite."

"I'm terribly sorry, Murdoch. I know you had a troubled relationship with him but this must have still come as a blow."

_Troubled is putting it mildly._

"Indeed, sir, which is why I would like to be removed from this case."

The Major eyed him closely then and Murdoch wondered if his bosses keen eye could discern his inner turmoil, just below the surface. It seemed like everyday another layer was added and it would only be a matter of time before it burst through in an expected manner.

"Hmm, I suppose I can get Perkins to take over. I believe he's not working on anything at the moment."

_Oh thank goodness!_

"Thank you, sir."

* * *

At first Murdoch was utterly relieved to have been granted a reprieve. Just the sight of his father's clay face had stirred up long forgotten terrors. Apparently they had only been slightly repressed, which was surprising to him considering everything that he had gone through. It frightened him at how easily the old memories affected him. He felt as fragile as the eleven year old boy who had taken that first punch and collapsed to the ground in a heap. The shock of Harry's violence had hurt more than the actual blow. The mere fact that his own father would do this to him, (someone he once looked up to, who played silly games with him by the stream near their house) was completely unfathomable. Murdoch tried to explain his behaviour away, claiming the alcohol was to blame. So that night after he had recovered and his father was passed out on the couch, Murdoch took all the alcohol in the house and smashed the bottles against a tree.

When Harry learned of this the next day, Murdoch got another beating, a much worse one. From that point on, he knew the alcohol wasn't the real problem, it was his father himself. The drink only enhanced his meanness.

Murdoch tried to remember why he had never taken Susannah and fled. He was coming up empty. Then it came to him.

_Bear._

He _had_ tried once but Harry had caught them and threatened to kill their dog if they ever tried that again. And they had doted on the poor thing, ever since they found him wandering around nearby their house, starving. They had nursed him back to health, their father had even _helped_ them do this. What had become of the man he used to love? Where had this monster come from?

Murdoch prayed to God every single night to bring back his father. And when he was older and more bitter, he began asking for his demise instead. Now it appeared that God had heard him, loud and clear.

It brought him little joy to know that his father was well and truly dead. When he had disappeared, Murdoch had half thought he was off getting help somewhere and then he would return to them one day, happy and full of life, like he used to be. After a year he knew that this wasn't the case, that he was probably decaying in a ditch somewhere. But still, he never expected to stumble upon his body, let alone to be the one to investigate his death!

And now he was free from this burden. So why did he feel so miserable? Julia? No that wasn't the reason. He was well accustomed to that particular brand of pain. This was something entirely different, something much more profound, that could only have been born out of the unique love/hate relationship he had had with his father for so many years. On the one hand, he wanted to stay as far away from this case as possible, to protect his fragile psyche. On the other, he wanted to get closure and finally put that part of his life behind him, so that he could finally heal wounds that had never really left. With both of these feelings pulling at him simultaneously, it all came down to which had the bigger pull. He had a pretty good idea which.

* * *

"You want back on the case, Murdoch?" echoed the Major.

"Yes, sir."

"Why the change of heart?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Well, you're welcome to it, Murdoch. Perkins is proving to be rather inept at uncovering anything of relevance."

"Thank you, sir," he said for the second time in two days.

* * *

Murdoch started by looking over Perkins notes. The Major was right, he had discovered nothing of value. Perkins had taken the head and shown it around at Mr. Davis' place but no one seemed to recall anyone who looked like that. Murdoch would try this again but this time use a photo as well.

"Are you certain?" asked Murdoch, looking for any tell tale signs of recognition. "His name was Harry Murdoch."

Davis was completely oblivious to the fact that the murder victim shared the same last name as him.

"As I told the other Sergeant, I can't remember! It was a decade ago!"

He seemed to be telling the truth.

It was the same thing with everyone else, just like Perkins had already ascertained.

Even though it was so long ago, Murdoch still would have expected _someone_ to have recognized him. Either everyone was lying or Harry had come here in secret, possibly to rendezvous with someone in the guest house.

The night of Harry's disappearance was September 9th, 1874. Three people were listed as staying there over a two week period. Their names were Ronald Swanson, Elliot Reed and Peter Bishop.

Six days passed tracking these people down. Bishop was a local (having moved to Vancouver since his stay at the guest house) but the other two still lived out of town. Murdoch had telegraphed them with contact information acquired from Davis and then had had to wait for them to show up.

Swanson was a big beefy man of few words who would definitely have had the strength to cause the extensive skull fractures. But Murdoch couldn't find his motive.

Reed turned out to be a woman. This was surprising for two reasons, one, her name, and two, she had been residing in the same general area as two men, while unmarried and unaccompanied. Again, he couldn't find a motive and she didn't seem like she'd have the strength to bash in someone's skull, even with the aid of a weapon.

Now Bishop, Bishop was a cool customer. He didn't have a particularly large frame but if angered, could have easily done the damage associated with Harry's death. Plus he was rumoured to be into a whole host of unsavoury things, things such as fixing the horse races, something Murdoch knew Harry despised. He lost plenty of money at the tracks and he was always looking for someone to blame. If Harry confronted Bishop about this, it could have led to a deadly altercation.

None of them claimed to recognize Harry. They were all so inscrutable that he couldn't tell if they were being truthful.

Murdoch had no idea how to proceed. There was no physical evidence tying any of them to the murder, nor was any likely to be found. Short of beating the men, (and threatening the woman) there was no way to get them to talk. But they were rich toffs, so if they went down that road without just cause, they would get into serious trouble with the Corps Sergeant Major and their lawyers.

* * *

While he was pondering his next move, Jackson handed him a letter. His heart quickened as he recognized the familiar dainty scrawl, though it was slightly altered. It was already starting to take on the chicken scratch appearance that all doctors apparently learned in medical school.

He closed the door to his office for some privacy and eagerly ripped it open.

_"Dearest William, _

_ I hope I do not presume too much by writing you again so soon after the last time, especially considering how we left things. But I felt compelled to reach out to you after I read an article about your father. Oh William, I am so sorry, truly. I wish I could be there to comfort you in person but that is simply not possible. I am afraid that if I see you again, I will not have the strength to go back to my studies. _

_ If you were gracious enough to forgive me the last time, I beg of you to do the same this time as well. However, if you are still angry with me, and do not wish to hear from me anymore, then do not respond to this letter and I will never bother you again. I completely understand if you choose the latter but I selfishly hope for the former._

_ Thinking of you, Julia"_

Immediately after reading this, (well after the fifth time) Murdoch got out a fresh piece of paper and began writing.


	6. California Girl

San Francisco was a lovely place, warmer than Vancouver had been, even in late autumn. Julia often times would go down to the beach with her heavy textbooks and study under the fading light as the soft ocean breeze played against her skin. Occasionally her recent acquaintance Isaac Tash would come with her. She sensed that he was sweet on her but she was unable to reciprocate the feeling. As such, more times than not, he would only stay a short while and then go off gallivanting with his male friends, looking to have a good time. She wished she could muster up the desire to do so as well, but she just couldn't. She had now been at the University of California's School of Medicine for the past two and a half months. And it felt like an eternity.

Sure she was enjoying her studies to some degree, (they were invigorating and challenging, all the more so because she was deemed inferior by many) but there was a part of her that had never really left Vancouver and because of this, it was sometimes hard to focus. This was ironic to her since this was the exact reason she had decided to skip town early. She had assumed that the geographic separation would provide a sort of buffer zone between her and William. She had assumed wrong.

Whenever she let her mind wander, it would invariably find its way back to him. About their short lived romance, and his wonderful laugh, about his handsome features, of his intelligent mind, his caring manner, and his strong and sure hands, of their undeniable chemistry and the feeling of pure bliss when his lips touched her own.

This in itself would have been bearable if she knew that there would be relief at some point. But there never would be. William had not responded to her letter and now she was condemned to suffer the symptoms of this all too human disease for all time, that of unrequited love. All of her studies were useless to her in this regard. There was no known cure, she was doomed.

_Alas poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio!_

Julia shook her head then, trying to bring herself back to reality after another bout of depressing thoughts. She laughed at her weakness in a grim way and cursed Shakespeare for ever putting such morbid notions in her head. Her throat was slightly dry and she stood up from her desk and went to get a glass of water.

_Or something stronger._

No, that would not do her any good. She had a mountain of reading to do and needed all her wits about her. As she quenched her thirst, there was a knock at her apartment room door.

_Who could that be at this time of night?_

Julia froze with the cup still against her lips and became vigilant. She had no roommate who could have forgotten a key, as she was the only female student admitted this term (hence living in an apartment and not a dorm, in fact, there was no female dorm). While she was pondering what to do, there was another knock, a more insistent one this time.

Her curiousity got the better of her and she headed towards the noise, grabbing a lantern along the way (for lighting and as a potential weapon). Heart thudding against her chest, mimicking the now continuous banging on the door, she undid the lock and threw the door wide open.

She almost dropped her lantern in surprise. It was William! He was dressed in plainclothes, specifically a dark suit, blue tie and bowler hat. He was grim looking and unshaven, with dark bags under his bloodshot eyes and most unlike the man she had left behind. Even so, he was still the most handsome and welcome sight she had ever seen. She would have thrown herself into his arms but something stopped her, a kind of dazed paralysis...and regret.

Neither said anything for a full ten seconds.

"William?" she croaked out finally.

"Julia," he said, trying to keep his emotion at bay but failing.

"Wha- what are you doing here?"

He frowned at that. Somewhat bitterly, "You never responded to my letters."

"Your _letters_?" she said quizzically, shrilly. "_What_ letters?"

His expression softened and he exhaled slightly. "I thought so," he said quietly and then laughed almost imperceptibly. She smiled timidly at the long unheard sound. "I wrote you twice more after there was no response the first time." He gestured to her, "Judging by your reaction, all three letters were lost in transit."

"Most unusual," she muttered, furrowing her brow.

"Precisely my sentiments."

There was a lull and she looked around then, noticing a few heads poking out behind mostly closed doors. "Would you care to continue this conversation inside?"

"Actually," he said, beaming at her, making her heart flutter, "I thought we could go for a bit of a stroll. It's quite nice out and I haven't gotten to stretch my legs in a long while."

"That would be lovely," she said, mirroring his expression.

Then she quickly put on some shoes and grabbed a light jacket. Proffering his arm, she accepted it, and they left the apartment building. They walked in silence for some time, heading towards the beach. The half moon glowed faintly behind thickening clouds. Except for some rowdy people in the distance, all was quiet.

"How are you liking your studies?" he asked.

"They're...fine."

He arced an eyebrow. "Just fine? I would have thought you would like them better than that! Are any of the other students giving you a hard time?"

"Some, yes but I'm used to that."

"Then what's the problem?"

Glancing away she whispered, "I've found it...difficult to concentrate lately."

Something in her voice must have made her meaning painfully obvious because he abruptly stopped walking then. William turned her head to face him so that they were looking into each others eyes. His thumb and forefinger lingered beneath her chin still, keeping her in place.

"I'm sorry, Julia. I never meant to cause you pain."

She couldn't help but laugh then and he appeared hurt by her reaction, and yet he kept the light pressure on her face. "That's just like you, William, apologizing when _I'm_ the one at fault."

"I never blamed you for leaving...not really." Echoing things he had said to his own sister, "You had your own life to live and the last thing I ever wanted was to keep you from your dreams."

"Oh William, I've missed you so."

"As have I."

He leaned in then and brushed his lips ever so gently against her own. His stubble was coarse but it by no means depreciated the experience. They parted, smiling a little and as they resumed walking, she rested her head against his shoulder. Down by the beach, she kicked her shoes off and William followed suit (after some finagling). They walked along the shoreline for awhile, holding hands, laughing as she tried to kick water at him over and over again.

All of a sudden he scooped her up and carried her a little ways up the beach. He deposited her gently and she stared at him in excited expectation. He removed his hat and then plopped down beside her, pulling her on top so that she was straddling him. Her hair had come a bit undone and he brushed it aside. She lowered herself and as their lips touched once more, knew that her miserable days were forever behind.


	7. Plethysmographing

A week later when things had settled into a nice, easy rhythm, (in which she found time to study in between bouts of seeing William) she found herself asking something she had been curious about for a long time. It was somewhat of a sensitive matter and she hadn't wanted to spoil the mood at all since their reunion. But she figured enough time had passed and it was okay now. Even so, she hesitated before beginning.

"William," she said as they lay on the semi-warm sand, propped up on elbows, looking out across the horizon and the beautiful display of the setting sun across the ocean, "how did you catch your...father's killer?"

He glanced at her sideways then and simply observed her, saying nothing. His face was clean shaven again and all evidence of weariness had vanished without a trace.

"It's just, the article in the paper was rather...vague about that part. And I- I was curious." He still said nothing. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to," she said hurriedly, regretting her decision to finally ask, feeling stupid.

"No, I don't mind," he said absently, seemingly half lost in thought. She viewed him closely and waited for him to continue. "How much do you know?"

That Elliot Reed bashed your drunken father's head in with a croquet mallet when he followed her back to the Davis property after seeing her at the track accompanied by Peter Bishop a day earlier. Harry had threatened to go to the cops with proof that Bishop was scamming everyone with fixed races. Reed claimed to have fallen in love with Bishop and wanted to protect him at all costs. Bishop had been horrified by her actions, but had still helped her bury the body (so shallow because the ground was quite hard and he was terrified of being caught). But after that, they had parted ways.

"Just that you tricked Elliot Reed and Peter Bishop into giving themselves away. But the article didn't say _how_ you did this."

He nodded once and replied, "Have you heard of Angelo Mosso, the Italian physiologist?"

"Of course, he's been doing lots of studies on the correlation between breathing rate and blood pressure. Using a device he called a plethysmograph, he was able to visually illustrate their correlation. His studies conclusively proved that certain stimuli such as fear or joy (anticipation of kissing you) cause increases in both."

William smirked at her. "Yes, that is exactly right."

"But what does that-" She clued in then. "Wait, so you're saying you used a plethysmograph on them, to see if they were lying?" He nodded once, again. "But where did you get one?"

His smirk widened. "I made it."

"You _made_ it?" she exclaimed, surprised. Suspiciously, "You're having me on, aren't you?"

He laughed. "Not at all, Julia. I telegraphed Mosso and asked him to explain its construction. He was more than willing to help when he learned the reason for my interest."

She just stared at him for awhile, open mouthed.

"That's quite unladylike, Miss Ogden."

Coming back to reality, she said, coyly, "We've been through this before, sir, I am not much of a lady."

"I don't recall that, ma'am," he said moving in closer to her, making her pulse quicken. Noses almost touching he continued, "I'm afraid you'll once again have to demonstrate what you mean."

"Be careful what you wish for," she breathed out, just before grabbing him by the collar and kissing him somewhat roughly. He seemed surprised at first, and even more so when she forced her tongue down his throat. After a second he responded quite enthusiastically. They were all over each other and somehow they began rolling in the sand. Due to the darkness and their increasingly vigorous activity, they didn't notice beforehand the person they now bumped into.

They looked up in confusion, or rather Julia did as she was lying on her back.

"How nice to see you enjoying yourself, Julia," said Isaac in a strained voice, smiling oddly.

_Oh dear!_

In a moment of weakness and sadness when she thought she would never see William again, she had cried her heart out to Isaac and he had patiently comforted her...and then they had kissed. It had been pleasant enough except that it had felt more like she was kissing her brother than a lover. That had been just a few days before William had shown up. After this she had done her best to avoid him. It was just her luck that he would come across them at such an inopportune moment.

_Serves me right._

"Isaac, I-"

He waved his hand. "Oh, no need for explanation, Julia." In a bizarrely pleasant way he asked, "I assume this is your friend from Vancouver?" She nodded shyly. "Won't you properly introduce us?"

"Of course," she said awkwardly. William, helped her to her bare feet. She was distraught by the unfortunate situation and so didn't bother knocking the sand from her clothes, or attempt to fix her hair in any way. As a result, she looked quite wild. And she felt it too, like a cornered animal, like whenever her father had caught her doing something he disapproved of (which was most things). William had no such confusion of mind and brushed himself off as Julia introduced them.

"Isaac, this is William, William Murdoch."

"Murdoch," he echoed, hollowly. Then his fake smile appeared again and he held out his hand. "Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, sir. I have heard so much about you."

William took it and said, "I'm afraid I can't say the same thing."

She wasn't sure if he was just referring to Isaac's last statement or to both.

"Ah, yes, Julia must be rather finished with me, now that you are here."

Neither of them said anything but Julia felt another pang of guilt. She would give anything to be somewhere else right now but she couldn't think of an excuse in order to leave.

They shook for far too long and judging by the face Isaac was making, he was attempting to crush William's hand but not succeeding. William appeared to be enjoying himself. Finally Isaac gave up on that endeavour and restrained himself from clutching his squashed fingers, at least openly. Julia assumed he now placed his hands behind his back in order to do this more discreetly.

"How long will you be staying?" Isaac asked, unable to keep his eagerness to be rid of William out of his voice.

William smiled then, looked at Julia and said, "Oh, I should think for quite some time yet. In fact, I really don't have anywhere else to be."

She knew exactly what he meant by this. He had quit his job before coming here and she had felt terrible about it, until he informed her that he had been planning on such a scheme long before she had ever come into his life. And after she had left, he would have quit straight away and gone somewhere else, but on the off chance that she contacted him again, he wanted to make sure that she could reach him. So he had stayed and waited and then his father's body had been found.

In many respects, she had been the reason for his current closure and peace with his past. It was likely that no one else would have cared enough or been clever enough to solve the case. Officially burying Harry's bones in a proper grave site had been difficult at first as he pictured all their bad times together and then cathartic, when the reverse happened and he remembered what it was like with his family, complete and happy, before his mother's tragic drowning and his father's horrible change. It was like Murdoch had released his hidden demons into the unknown, leaving him free to start over again...with her.

"I see," said Isaac quietly, clearly crushed at not receiving a more favourable answer. An awkward silence (at least on her part) ensued. "Well, I have somewhere to be," he said suddenly and abruptly left.

"What a nice fellow," said William, half seriously, half sardonically. He turned to face her. "What did he mean before, about being...finished with him?"

She was very uncomfortable now. "It's nothing really."

"_Julia_."

"We might possibly have, ever so slightly...kissed." She braced for his reaction, there was none.

"_And_?" he enquired. "Is that all?"

"You're not mad?"

He laughed. "Julia, you had every reason to court another. I have no right to be angry. But-"

"Yes?"

"I must say, I am ever so slightly...jealous."

"Don't be," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. He did the same. "We're just good friends, that's all."

"And I believe you," he said, pulling her close. "Now where were we?"

He kissed her and she broke away. "No, not here, William. It's recently come to my attention that the beach is altogether too public for my tastes. Besides, it's gotten rather chilly."

"Well then," he said taking off his coat and draping it around her shoulders, "where would you like to go?"

Truthfully she wasn't in the mood anymore. With everything out in the open, she was feeling guilty.

"I'm tired, William, can you just walk me home?"

He hid his disappointment expertly. "Whatever you want, Julia, whatever you want. There's always tomorrow."

"Indeed," she said smiling, taking his arm, "there's always that."


	8. The Charger

Murdoch had been in San Francisco for almost three weeks now. They had been the best days of his life. And while that was all well and good, he had to make a change to their well worn routine. This was because his coffers were nearly half way depleted. Julia had no notion of this, (at least in so far as he had never mentioned it to her but likely she knew regardless) and he was far too proud to ever start loaning money from her. He had never done so in his life and he wasn't about to start now, even from the woman he loved.

The question was, what should his new profession be? As soon as he made his mind up, there seemed to be something else that would catch his eye and he was back to square one. This backwards cycle was beginning to get very frustrating.

One day when Julia was at school and he was sitting on a rocky cliff, contemplating his career path for the umpteenth time and looking out across the bay, he thought he saw something unusual in the distance. This snapped him from his reverie and using his home made binoculars, gazed at the object with greater clarity. While the thing in question was now bigger, it was still impossible to make out from this distance. However, he could say with certainty that it was moving at a rapid rate across the water, far faster than any of the myriad of Felucca's littering San Francisco Bay could ever go on such a windless day (or possibly ever). Murdoch followed its path with growing interest and was pleased when the sail less vessel appeared to be heading toward Fisherman's Wharf (which was nearby). The Wharf seemed to be abuzz with people, and not the typical fisherman types. These were rich men and some members of the press.

Without further ado, he slung the binoculars around his neck and hurried along the forested pathway. When he was closer, he took a shortcut through the underbrush that cut across to the docks. Even before he could see anything, he could hear many things; the enthusiastic chatter of a multitude of people, the faint hum of a still running engine, someone speaking loudly over them in order to get their attention; and then abruptly total silence.

A man began to speak just as the scene before him came into view. Murdoch was still too far away to make out what he was saying and he would not be getting any closer, any time soon. A guard of some sort came out to stop his progress. For a second he forgot where he was and almost took out his badge.

"I just want to see what's going on."

"Sorry, sir, but this here's a private party. You can read all about it in the paper tomorrow though."

Murdoch didn't want to wait but the man wasn't turning his back. So Murdoch settled for a sort of compromise and retreated some distance away (beside several annoyed fishermen who had been kicked off the docks) and peered through binoculars again.

The man standing on a makeshift platform was about the same height as Murdoch, and only about five years older. He had brown hair and eyes to match. His hair went half way down to his shoulders and was rather unkempt. Murdoch couldn't tell if this was due to driving that vessel at such a speed or if his hair always looked like that. In any case, this was of little importance to him. What he was really interested in was the motorized boat. It was very sleek and streamlined, except for the somewhat bulky engine sticking up out of the back. The craft was likely only ten feet long and not much larger than a canoe (though its sides seemed lower) and it was made of metal. By all accounts, it did _not _look very safe or sea worthy. Even so, he had a great desire to captain it.

Pictures were now being taken and a few minutes later the crowd dispersed.

The man in question passed near him and one of the fisherman yelled, "You toffs think you can get away with anything! I actually have to work for my living, you know!"

"All right, sir," said the guard, "move along now."

"No, I don't think I will! I want him to apologize for disrupting my place of business!"

The brown haired man viewed the other and said nothing. This further enraged the fisherman (reminding Murdoch of his father) and he came charging at him, knocking the guard over. Like lightning, Murdoch intervened, grabbed the distraught man by the arm and flung him to the ground. He continued to hold the fisherman's arm back and put his knee in the small of his back when he tried to get out of it.

"Will you behave now?"

"Fine, fine!" he yelped, pounding the ground with his free fist. "Just let go of my damn arm before you break it!"

Murdoch did so and the man scrambled off with his buddies. The brown haired man now turned his attention fully to Murdoch. He looked Murdoch up and down and was seemingly surprised by his appearance.

Before he could say anything Murdoch casually said, "That craft had great speed. Were you by any chance using a two cylinder petrol engine in conjunction with a carburetor?"

Incredulously, "Yes, as a matter of fact I was. But how did _you_ know that? I believe this is the first prototype for such a thing and you weren't in the crowd before when I was explaining that."

"Only a setup such as that could have possibly allowed a sail less craft to travel over what I estimated to be twenty-five kilometres per hour."

"Kilometres?" said the man with even more interest. "You're Canadian then?"

"Yes, I'm recently in from Vancouver."

The man arched an eyebrow. "Vancouver?! Why that is my home town!"

"Really?!" said Murdoch. "What a strange coincidence!"

"James Pendrick," said the man, thrusting out a rough hand.

"William Murdoch," he said taking it.

"Well, Murdoch," Pendrick said gesturing back towards the vehicle, "would you care to go for a ride? I think you've more than earned that honour."

Murdoch smiled and said, "Absolutely."

Finally close enough to see the vessel in person, he was able to read its name, _The Pendrick Charger_.

With the large engine taking up part of the back seat, there was just barely enough room for two people. Luckily neither of them was obese.

Pendrick cranked the engine by hand and it erupted into the single most noisiest thing he had ever heard. It seemed even louder than a gun shot, if only because the sound was continuous. He fought the impulse to cover his ears.

"Ready?" shouted Pendrick over the roar.

Murdoch simply nodded.

A moment later they were taking off. Murdoch watched the speedometer as the dial rose higher and higher within mere seconds. At eighteen km/h they sliced through the water with ease. Pendrick looked back briefly and they grinned at each other. And then the captain really let it rip, to thirty-five km/h, or the maximum speed of the vehicle. Logically he should have been terrified but irrationally, he was having the time of his life. It reminded him of the times his father had taken him out in his skiff when he was just a wee lad. Those had always been exhilarating trips for him, not because they were particularly interesting but because he had gotten to spend time with his father, who frequently went on long fishing ventures and so he didn't get to see him every day.

Though the weather had not been too chilly this early December afternoon on land, Murdoch was now finding it to be quite bracing out here on the water. He turned the collar up on his suit jacket in order to shield his face slightly. They looped around a few times across the Bay, easily dodging all of the Felucca's and other boats and then when they were running low on gas, were forced to head back to the Wharf.

"That was amazing!" exclaimed Murdoch after they had docked and the engine had been killed.

"Tell me something I don't know," said Pendrick, smirking.

"Imagine the possibilities! If you could make this bigger and more powerful, you could cross the seas in a matter of days! Global isolation would be a thing of the past!"

"Indeed," laughed Pendrick. "But even _I _know it will be some time before then." There was a slight lull. "Tell me, Murdoch, how long are you staying in San Francisco?"

"For the foreseeable future."

"Excellent. And how much do you know about the inner workings of petrol engines?"

"I wouldn't claim to be an expert but I know my way around them, if only from diagrams I have seen in books."

"That's better than most." Another pause. "I could use a man like you on my team. Fresh eyes and such. Would you be interested in helping me re-work my designs over the coming months? I plan to have an entirely new model come next July."

Murdoch looked at him incredulously and said, "I would like nothing more!"

"Wonderful! Can you start tomorrow?"

"I can start right now!"

"Now, that is my kind of man!" Pendrick said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Come along then, Murdoch, there is much to discuss!"


	9. Results Are In!

**Dammit KTG, you're right! Even without doing research I should have known this from the show, involving an episode with Pendrick no less! Well, it's not the first time I was inaccurate and it won't be the last so I will just have to deal.**

* * *

Julia was more stressed out than she had ever been in her life. The results for the finals were to be posted in a short while and if she hadn't performed well, no perfectly, she would never hear the end of it from her peers. They would use any excuse, however small, as grounds to try to get rid of her. It didn't matter if _they_ did poorly, that was besides the point, they were untouchable simply because they were men. Not that she was actually afraid of being kicked out from the university. The dean had expressly desired her to be there and that is exactly the reason she was so far away from home (well that and the fact that no one else would take her). The University of California had been allowing female students for the past ten years. There was supposed to have been another here with her as an ally but the young woman had apparently taken ill just a short while before she was to depart. A few months later she had died. Though Julia had never met the woman, she had still grieved for her out of some sort of shared kinship in the pursuit of knowledge and freedoms most women only dreamed of.

A teaching assistant, Mr. Myers, walked by her peripheral vision and she turned to see him holding a long piece of paper. She knew exactly what that was. Quickly she got up from her place in the dinning hall and followed him. Soon others were doing the same and Myers glanced behind him and smirked at them. Finally he stopped at a massive bulletin board and tacked the sheet into place.

"Have at it," he said staring at the bunch of them in turn. His gaze lingered on Julia and he winked at her. From what she knew of Myers, this could mean something good, or it could mean nothing at all, he was always winking at her.

She let the others go ahead of her as she wasn't in the mood to deal with them. There were some shouts of joy and some groans. Soon they departed, glaring at her with contempt, like it was her fault for their failings.

Julia scanned down the alphabetical list quickly until she reached the M's. Once there she slowed down in order not to go past her own name. The O's were approaching. She found her name, closed her eyes and took a deep breath so as to give herself a chance to steady her nerves. Opening them again, she looked to the right were her results were. After a few seconds she released her pent up breath in one big gush and smiled. She had passed with flying colours in every category! In fact, she was tied for the top spots with just three other students! One of these just happened to be standing next to her, or rather behind her.

Isaac was now looking over her shoulder, and checking out both of their scores. Perhaps he had been doing this the whole time. She couldn't say later as she had been too preoccupied in her own world.

"Well done," he said softly, startling here. Isaac was so close that she could feel his breath on her neck. She whirled around to face him and would have stepped back a few paces except the wall was in the way. He seemed oblivious to having scared her. "I knew you could do it."

"Thank you, Isaac," she said regaining her composure. "The same to you."

This is the most she had said to him since their untimely encounter on the beach. She realized then that they were quite alone and irrationally began to feel afraid and most unlike herself. Her feeling of terror increased when she noticed a certain glint in his eyes not unlike the one William had given her all those months ago (but then she had been in the NWMP station, surrounded by many other officers of the law, this time she was quite alone; besides, it had been William the last time. She had never really been afraid of him or his passions. In fact, she had welcomed them with open arms).

He reached out and touched her cheek. Somehow she was paralyzed with fear and unable to move. Isaac continued to caress her face and she could not do anything to stop him.

_What on earth is wrong with me?_

"You're a very special woman, Julia," he half whispered. "You should be with someone who is going places."

"W-william _is_ going places."

Isaac laughed softly. "Yes, tinkering around with nuts and bolts is quite a bright future."

She didn't respond.

"I just don't understand what you see in him."

Some common sense returned to her and she turned to leave. He barred her way with an arm against the wall. Once again she became frightened.

"Isaac," she said, timidly, "let me pass."

"He's a commoner, Julia, he's not meant to be part of our world." Isaac brushed her hair aside with his free hand. "He's not meant for you."

"And you _are_?" she asked quietly.

"Without a doubt."

Then he leaned in and tried to kiss her but she turned away. This apparently angered him and he slapped the wall beside her head. Involuntarily she jumped at the resounding thud in the vacant hall.

"Why won't you come to your senses?!"

Rather than be scared of him anymore, his last action seemed to have brought her to attention.

"I could ask you the same question, Isaac! I think I've made it quite clear that I have no romantic interest in you whatsoever! And frankly, as of right now, I'm not sure I'll ever want to speak to you again!"

Each proclamation had caused him to flinch. At least she knew she was getting through to him now. What happened next was entirely up to him. Isaac blinked a few times and then unblocked her escape route.

"I'm so sorry, Julia," he said, voice queer sounding. "I don't know what came over me."

If he was expecting to be forgiven, he was sadly mistaken.

"See that it never happens again or I will be forced to report you." He looked so heart broken that her resolve waned slightly. Glancing away, "I never meant to hurt you or lead you to believe that I felt something that I did not. And for that I do apologize."

He didn't try to stop her from leaving this time.

* * *

William had been working late hours every day for the past two weeks. As such he had been very preoccupied and keeping to himself, or rather, with James. She had barely noticed this herself as she had been madly revising. But now, now with finals over and after this little scare, she was keenly aware of how little they had been seeing each other. It took her awhile to realize why he wasn't answering his door. He was probably still at work. She desperately wanted to see him but had one rather large problem. She didn't even know _where_ he worked exactly! She was sure he had mentioned it before but for the life of her, couldn't remember what he had said.

Logic dictated that they would be down at the docks somewhere, so whether wise or not at this late hour, she made her way down there alone. Some men eyed her on her way there but didn't approach her, for which she was eternally grateful. After asking around for what felt like forever, she finally located the warehouse in which they were conducting their research.

"Let her rip, Murdoch!" exclaimed a man she had never seen before but took to be James Pendrick.

William nodded and began furiously cranking a large engine. His suit jacket was slung over the side of a wooden chair so that his torso was only covered in his white undershirt. A thin sheen of sweat coated his face and body, accentuating his prime physique, something she had not yet seen fully. As well, his hair was tousled and unruly, giving him a kind of wild appearance, not unlike their last night on the beach. Before she even had a chance to become aroused by this sight, the loudest cacophony of noise imaginable erupted from the engine, making her slap her hands over her ears.

"Cut it! Cut it!" boomed James seconds later, the sound mostly swallowed up by the incredible noise. For good measure he had been swiping a hand across his neck to get his message across.

William flipped a switch and the noise immediately dissipated to nothing. Hesitatingly, she removed her hands then.

"Damn it!" said James. "Such an infernal racket still!"

"It's late," said William, "and we're clearly not making any headway. I say we call it quits."

There was silence for a moment and then James sighed. "Oh all right, Murdoch. Have it your way. I had simply hoped to have figured out this dilemma before the holidays."

William raised an eyebrow. "And why is that, sir?"

"I thought it would be obvious." William still seemed clueless and James sighed again. "People tend to go away during the holidays, Murdoch, visiting family and whatnot."

"Of course."

Another silence. She took the opportunity to make her presence known by clearing her throat. They both cocked their heads in her direction. William was confused and then smiled and James was just confused.

"Excuse me," said James, "but-"

"It's all right, sir, she's here for me."

Understanding dawned across his face. "So _you're_ the famous Julia I've been hearing so much about."

"Guilty as charged."

William came over to her side and she tried not to stare at his soaked through chest. It was difficult at first but she managed by the time he was launching into formal introductions. With those aside, they chatted for a few moments and then made their goodbyes. William still was not wearing his suit jacket, tie and hat as they made their way back to her place. The first two were draped over her shoulders and neck and the last was in his hand. This worked doubly well for she had been chilly and he hadn't wanted to pay for any unnecessary laundry.

"Not that I'm complaining, Julia, but why are you here? It's not safe to be out in these parts at this time of night unaccompanied."

"I know," she said, "but I just had to see you."

He arced an eyebrow. "Oh? Is everything all right?"

She wondered how much she should tell him.

"Yes, of course," she said, chickening out. "I've just missed you, that's all."

He smiled. "I suppose we've both been a little preoccupied as of late."

She nodded before continuing. "And as you know, I received my results today." William looked a little sheepish. "Or maybe you didn't."

"I admit that that particular detail had slipped my mind. I hope you can forgive me."

She rolled her eyes. "There you go apologizing again when it isn't necessary."

"I'm sor-" he cleared his throat. "How did you do? Wonderfully, I'd imagine."

"As a matter of fact," she said smiling, "I did. I'm in the top three of my class."

_With Isaac._

"Congratulations, Julia!" he said stopping so that he could hug her. His clothing was still damp. "Oh, I'm sor-"

"_William_." A slight pause. "Enough about me. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with James." He waited for her to continue. "We really should discuss our Christmas plans."

"Our?" he said confusedly, making her frown.

"Yes, our, William," she said exasperated. "I've only two weeks off before next term which means I don't have time to travel home for the holidays." She eyed him coyly, "Which means I'm all yours."

"Very good, Julia," he said smiling, "very good indeed."


	10. Christmas Eve Surprise

Neither of them had any family to visit with in California, so it was up to the two of them to celebrate Christmas on their own. At least, that is what they thought. On December twenty-fourth they had an unexpected visitor.

Julia and William had just come back from watching a rather tawdry production of The Merry Wives of Windsor. Admittedly, comedy was fairly subjective but even they could agree that it had been poorly done. Now Julia was rather regretting not taking William's advice and going to see a more traditional play for the time of year. She wasn't much for religious productions but was pretty sure _anything_ would have been better than what they did see. But she had wanted to see something funny and he had relented as a reward for her good grades. Of course, being the gentlemen he was, he would never rub her bad choice in her face.

In any case, she was in a bit of an ill temper when they returned to her apartment that evening, and the person waiting outside her door _wasn't_ going to help matters.

"_Ruby_?!" gasped Julia, utterly astonished to find her seventeen year old sister there (with heaps of luggage).

"Jules!" shrieked Ruby and ran over to embrace her tightly, her long braid trailing behind her.

After she released her, "Ruby, what on earth-"

"Father was being _intolerable_ and I just had to get out of there!"

_Yes, this is sure to improve your relationship with him._

Julia raised an eyebrow. Half jokingly, half sternly said, "So naturally you decided to come to California...by yourself!"

"Oh please don't be mad, Jules!" she said, grabbing her again.

Sighing Julia said, "I'm not mad Ruby...just surprised."

"Well good," she said, letting go again. Then she smirked at William and said, "And who is your handsome friend?"

William cleared his throat and said, "William Murdoch."

Ruby held out her hand and he took it. "Ruby Ogden."

"Nice to meet you Miss Ogden, I've heard a lot of-" he paused, "a lot about you."

"Funny," she said glancing at Julia, "I haven't heard a thing about you! It seems Jules has been selfishly keeping you all to herself! A mistake that will soon be rectified!"

Then to her extreme consternation, her sister linked arms with him and rested her head on his shoulder like they were intimately involved! William was half amused, half annoyed and completely unsure of how to react to this development.

_Lovely, I can feel the beginnings of a headache._

Putting a hand to her head she said, "Now, _really_, Ruby, is that any way to behave?"

"Oh William doesn't mind, now do you?"

_The audacity to call him by his Christian name! You just met him!_

"Well..." he started.

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I want to hear everything there is to know about you William, so we better get started!" Ruby looked at her sister. "Well, shouldn't you open the door then?"

Julia grumbled internally as she retrieved her key from her purse. As usual her sister had completely hijacked the situation, bending everyone to her whim. And as usual, Julia had no idea if her sister was completely ignorant of her manipulations and inappropriate behaviour or if she knew exactly what she was doing. The kinder part of her wanted to believe the former to be true but the less gracious parts of her assumed it must be the latter.

After an hour of the exceedingly uncomfortable situation, (in which she grimaced every time her sister called him by his Christian name, which was entirely too frequently and served to magnify her headache a little more each time) Julia had had enough. Not only had her sister basically ignored her the whole time but it was clear that Ruby had no intention of relenting anytime soon in her interrogation of William. He had put up with her admirably well, and far better than she would have done if their situations were reversed. Even so, she would consider herself lucky if William still wanted to be with her after this fiasco.

This evening was supposed to have been a private audience with the man she loved and not the most awkward and mortifying of occurrences. It was time to put an end to this.

When there was a slight lull she said, "Ruby-"

"And where did you say your sister was again, William?"

"Susannah is with Saint Jude's Convent."

"Ruby-"

"Oh how _dreadful_! Why would anyone want to do _that_?"

William made a face and for the second time that evening was visibly annoyed. And as Julia was well aware, this was quite the feat.

"Ruby, can I have a word with you please?"

Her sister waved her hand in a vague manner. "Not now, Jules, in a little bit."

"_Ruby, I really_ _must_ _insist_," she said, using her authoritative voice.

Finally Ruby came to her senses and said, "Oh all right, Jules, but make it quick."

She made no move to get up. "I meant in _private_, Ruby."

Her sister rolled her eyes, stood up, turned to face William and said, "Don't worry! I'll be back soon!"

Julia led her sister into her bedroom and closed the door. Her headache had reached a crescendo and Ruby's enraptured face wasn't doing anything to help. She knew what her sister was thinking. She was planning on trying to steal William away from her! Her sister had done such a thing before, just the previous year. They had only recently started talking again.

She had prepared a whole lecture in her head during the last hour. It was quite elegant and well thought out.

"Stop it!" Julia snapped, instantly wiping the expression from her face.

"Jules?" she asked quizzically, only seeming to truly notice her for the first time that evening. "What's wrong?"

Julia groaned. "Oh come _on_, Ruby! You must have _some_ clue!"

Her sister continued to look mystified.

"You're acting as though you were raised by wolves!"

"I don't think-"

"You've been practically _throwing_ yourself at William the whole night!" she hissed. "Just like you did with _Jasper_!"

Ruby said nothing but appeared to be a bit abashed for once. While she had her sister's undivided attention, she decided to pose another question to her that she should have asked earlier.

"Does father even _know_ you're here?! Or did you just leave in the middle of the night?!"

"I-I left him a note," Ruby said, quite cowed, looking away.

As usual, Julia felt guilty for getting angry with her baby sister, especially since she seemed close to tears.

Sighing, "Well, that's something. At least he won't have had the constabulary giving chase." A short pause. "Was he _really_ being so awful that you felt compelled to travel half way across the country?"

Silence. "No," she said softly. "He's just his usual sad self since...and I wanted to be around someone happier for a change." She buried her face in Julia's collar and started to cry. "I'm a terrible person! I left him all alone for the first Christmas since..."

Julia couldn't think of anything reassuring to say so she just held her sister until she ceased to shed tears. Now Julia was exceedingly glad that she had remembered to send her father a lengthy letter and gift about a week ago. At least he would have that. No matter their differences, he was still her father and she would always love him, just like her sister. And she liked to think that somewhere deep down, he probably _did_ admire her accomplishments but was too proud and pig headed to say so aloud, which seemed to be the case with virtually every man she had ever met, excepting William...and Isaac.

Ruby quieted down and then glancing at the bed said, "I'm quite tired now Jules, do you think..."

"Yes, fine, you can have my bed for tonight."

"We could just share."

Julia looked at it with a frown. "It's rather small for the two of us I think," she grinned slightly, and tickled her, "especially since you are such a kicker."

Ruby rolled her eyes again. "That was _ages_ ago, Jules, I don't do that anymore."

"And how do you know?" asked Julia in a joking manner.

"I-I just do," she stammered.

Julia frowned at that response. Could her sister have...? It was late and she didn't want to get into such topics right now so she let it slide for the time being.

"Well, goodnight, Ruby." She glanced at the clock and saw it was well after midnight. "And Merry Christmas."

Ruby simply nodded, not looking at her, further confirming her fears. Julia opened the bedroom door and instantly recognized that William was no longer there. Suddenly she wondered if she would ever see him again or if her sisters undue attentions had driven him away forever.

"I'm sorry," said Ruby from behind. "I didn't mean to-"

"Never mind that now, Ruby, let's just get some much needed rest."


	11. Sister's Keeper

Julia slept surprisingly well considering the events of the previous night. No doubt the laudanum had something to do with that. In any case she awoke with a start when she heard rumblings in the next room. Glancing to her side, she saw that Ruby was no longer there and assumed it to be her, but listening more closely, realized there was a man speaking!

_If she let some strange man into my apartment, so help me..._

She forced herself to get up even though she'd rather sleep all day and quickly threw a robe over her nightgown. Another thought crossed her mind and she grabbed a candle holder, ready to use it if necessary. Then she flung the door open and prepared to strike.

Ruby and William blinked up at her with confusion and surprise. They were sitting on the ground beside a little Christmas tree, hanging ornaments on the lowest branches. There were a few presents wrapped in brown paper beneath.

Because of what had happened yesterday, neither of them laughed, though William raised an eyebrow.

"Ah!" said Ruby gayly, "There you are sister! We were hoping to be finished before you awoke but it seems you beat us to it!"

"Oh," was all Julia could muster. She placed the candle holder on the table and went over to them.

"Care to help us decorate?" asked William.

"I'd be delighted to."

So they got to work, covering every inch of the four foot fir beauty. Julia and William tried to work methodically, in a continuous spiraling line, but Ruby just threw them on haphazardly, ruining whatever they put together. Julia could tell that she was fast becoming bored with this exercise, just like she had as children, just like she did with everything. That got her thinking back to happier times when her mother had still been alive and she and father had lifted both of them up high in order to decorate the middle branches of the always gigantic beasts. It required half a dozen servants on long ladders to reach anything higher. As such, she had never gotten to put the star on top of the tree as they had forbidden her from climbing so high. Of course she had tried once or twice, but had been caught red handed and severely punished. Which is to say that they had given her some of those dreadful dolls as presents instead of things she had asked for.

With the decorations complete, save for the star, things might have gotten out of hand if not for William. Both sisters had reached for it at the exact same time, likely thinking the exact same thing, and now sharing the exact same annoyed expression as they tugged on it between them.

"I'm the youngest," complained Ruby, "and besides, I'm your guest!"

_A guest who insinuated herself into my life without so much as a word of thank you!_

"And this is my home, I think I should reserve the right for this honour." Muttering darkly, "Especially after last night."

"Now ladies," began William but stopped short when they glared at him.

"Stay out of this, William!" snapped Julia.

"Yes, this is between my sister and I!"

He worked up more courage and said quickly, "If it weren't for your sister, Julia, we wouldn't even _have_ a tree to put a star on. This whole thing was her idea."

She stopped struggling momentarily and said, "Is this true, Ruby?"

"Yes. I wanted to make it up to you so I contacted Wil-" Julia glowered at her, "Mr. Murdoch early this morning and we managed to find this exquisite specimen in the woods nearby." With that thought in mind Ruby relented and let her big sister have the star. "I'm sorry, Jules, this isn't really the best way to smooth things over, now is it?"

Julia sighed, "Don't apologize, Ruby, I quite understand your thinking." She smiled. "I have a compromise. How about we _both_ put the star on together?"

Ruby smiled too and together the silver star was lifted into place, sparkling faintly in the sunlight streaming through the curtained window.

All three of them stood back to admire their handiwork, William's arm draped loosely across her waist. With so little material between the two of them, she felt his touch all the more keenly. While it would have been nice to have just been the two of them, it was also nice to see her sister again, as long as she continued to behave herself. She thought of her father then and wished it were possible to call him from such a long distance. If anyone could accomplish such a feat, it would likely be the man standing next to her, but he was rather preoccupied with James and his vision of ocean domination. But maybe someday...

After some blissful silence she said, "Well, shouldn't we open the presents now?"

The other two nodded and she went into her bedroom to grab William's gift, only to find that it wasn't there!

"Looking for this?" asked Ruby from across the room, holding up a familiar looking package with some difficulty.

"Ruby," she said with a forced calm, "did you go snooping through my things while I was asleep?"

"Only to find this," her sister said warily. "I didn't think you would mind-"

"I most certainly do mind!" Julia snapped. "How would you like it if-"

William cleared his throat and she glared at him again. His expression seemed to say, 'can't you let bygones be bygones just this once and enjoy this time together?'

Julia huffed and remained silent, arms crossed tightly against her chest.

"Forgive me, Jules, I-"

"Save it!" she barked.

An uncomfortable silence ensued for far too long, neither sister looking at the other.

Finally William shrugged and took Julia's present out of Ruby's clutches, gently unwrapped Julia's arms from her bosom and handed her his present. She stared at him then.

"I believe you have something for me."

"_William_-"

"It's rude to keep people waiting, Julia." He smirked, "Especially such handsome ones."

She tried not to smile then but failed. "Oh take the blasted thing then," she said thrusting it into his waiting hands.

"Why thank you, Julia."

He dispensed with the paper in seconds and revealed a medium sized wooden box. It was quite nicely varnished and shined a little from time to time. William opened it to reveal a wide variety of tools that would be very useful for his current profession.

"I love it," he said quietly, catching her eyes.

Somehow she knew he wasn't just talking about the present and couldn't help but smile again.

"I thought you might."

They shared the look for a few seconds more and then he put his present aside, and led her by the hand, past Ruby and to the sofa. He bent over to pick up her present and she stared at his firm backside for a moment before she realized her sister was standing right there. As she glanced away, she caught Ruby's smirk and their eyes met. Julia was embarrassed until William stood up again and handed her the gift.

"I won't claim it to be as nice as what you got me but I hope it will suffice."

"I'm sure I'll love it, whatever it is."

Unwrapping quickly, she found herself struggling not to frown. He had given her a book. That in itself would have been fine for she loved to read but it was a book of poetry, _bad_ poetry by none other than the infamous McGonagall! She hid her disappointment as best as she could, plastering a fake smile across her face. This might have sufficed to fool him if not for Ruby.

"Oh dear! McGonagall! How dreadful!"

Julia scowled at her and Ruby clamped a hand across her mouth. William's own smile vanished as well.

"It's lovely, William," said Julia hastily. Glaring at her sister, "Ruby doesn't know what she is saying."

"Really?" he asked unbelieving, downtrodden, "Because I can always get you something else. It's just, I know how you like a good laugh and the man at the bookstore said-"

Before he could get another word out she had grabbed him and kissed him full on the mouth, not caring that her younger sister was still present.

"Well all right then," he breathed out afterwards. "I believe you."

They both started to laugh and Ruby joined in and the rest of the day went by in a happy blur.

* * *

A few days later when a kind of equilibrium had been reached between the two sisters, Julia broached a sensitive topic.

"I'm not sure how to say this delicately Ruby, but I will do my best." Her sister looked at her expectantly...and later reluctantly. "That first night when you arrived...you...well, you made it seem as though you had something to hide..."

Confusedly, "What on earth are you talking about, Jules?"

Julia thought her sister probably knew exactly what she meant.

"Well, when I mentioned that you kick in your sleep, you were quite adamant that you did not in fact do that anymore. I asked how you knew this and well...your response was rather strange I thought."

For a split second she hesitated and then smiled. "Oh, you thought-" she laughed. "I had a sleepover with Rebecca recently and we shared her bed. She's the one who informed me that I am no longer afflicted with that particular foible."

_If that was the case, then why had she behaved so strangely?_

Raising an eyebrow, "Ruby, I want you to tell me the truth."

"That_ is_ the truth," she muttered, crossing her arms against her chest, eerily reminiscent of her sister on Christmas morning.

"I won't be mad and I won't tell father. I promise."

No response.

Julia sighed and said, "If you are going to be sexually active, there are certain precautions you should take."

Ruby started to blush faintly and avoided all eye contact with her sister.

"I just want you to be safe and remain healthy. And as I am studying to be a doctor, I have a pretty good idea of the best ways."

Still no response.

Sighing again, "When you are ready we can discuss this further. Just know that I am always there for you and always will be."

Julia got up to leave but Ruby called her back. And so commenced an extremely lengthy, awkward conversation between the two sisters but by the end of it, they were both better for it and their relationship was stronger than it had been in many years. So it was that when Ruby left again just after new years, Julia was quite sad to see her go.


	12. Rampant Passions

It was now February 18th and with the exceptions of a few slight hiccups and misunderstandings, Julia and Murdoch had gotten along remarkably well. This was probably largely in part because they didn't actually spend that much time together on any given day. Her course load had gotten even worse come the new year, as had his labours with Pendrick. Murdoch would never be so brash as to call his boss a slave driver but sometimes he pushed him just a little too hard in his mad dash to complete his newest prototype before the competition. Murdoch wasn't sure what the rush was about, they still had five months before the projected deadline. He supposed what it came down to was that Pendrick was much like Miss Ogden, always getting bored and wanting to move on to something grander, something new.

Murdoch had no such qualms. He was quite content with his current situation and didn't see the need for change. But as is the way of things, change always rears its ugly head, whether one wants it to or not.

Murdoch was surprised that night when Julia showed up at his doorstep. She seemed very vexed about something and he almost closed the door in her face. Instead he gestured for her to come in and she stormed past him, whirled around and focused her furious glare on him. He quaked slightly under her forceful gaze, intensely reminded of how beautiful she was when she was so dangerous.

"I can't believe you didn't remind me!" she exclaimed, fists balled up in anger.

He was mystified as to her meaning.

"I haven't the pleasure of understanding you, Julia. Would you care to enlighten me?"

"Oh don't give me that!" she snapped. "You _must_ know what I'm talking about!"

Shaking his head, "I'm sorry, Julia, I really don't."

She groaned. "It's your _birthday_ you dolt!" Comprehension dawned on his face and he smiled sheepishly. Julia couldn't stop herself from laughing a little. "Did you _really_ forget your _own_ birthday, William?"

Murdoch looked at her pointedly, "From what you first said, it appears that you did too."

It was her turn to be sheepish and she calmed down a bit. "Yes, well..."

"We've both been very busy lately. It's perfectly understandable."

Begrudgingly she accepted his assessment. Still she seemed annoyed.

"It's already after nine o'clock! There's barely any time left!"

Now he understood why she was so upset. She was mad at herself for what she perceived to be a grievous wrong. Caring little for the annual celebration and all the fuss his mother and sister used to make over him, he hastened to put her at ease.

He embraced her and at first she resisted but eventually she yielded.

"It's quite all right, Julia," he said soothingly. "I've never really understood this fascination with parties anyway. All the noise and such. Who needs that?"

Parting slightly she asked, "Do you really mean that or are you just trying to make me feel better?"

"Both," he said simply, making her smile.

"I still feel like I should do _something._"

"Tell you what, Julia, you can make it up to me next year."

Was it exceedingly arrogant to assume they'd still be together in a years time when no formal bond of possession, a.k.a. a ring, had been offered? Or was it romantic to be so sure of their situation regardless of such things? Judging by the way she was now looking at him, he gathered she thought it was the latter.

"How about I make it up to you right now?" she purred in a way he had never heard before. Before he could reply she had pulled him in for a searing kiss that left him seeing fireworks. He gripped her waist tight and brought her full against him. That had been a mistake. A certain natural reaction had just taken place and she would have had to have been incredibly unobservant not to have felt it, even through the many layers of fabric between them.

Afraid that she might think it highly improper, he began loosening his grip on her, but she wouldn't let him. She brought his hands back to their previous location and in the next instant, found a way to deepen their already Grand Canyon like kiss. Needless to say he was starting to get light headed from lack of oxygen but he didn't want this moment to end so he held fast and tried not to suffocate.

Finally they parted, heaving greatly, but smiling broadly.

"Thank you, Julia," he gasped, "I think you've sufficiently made up."

"Oh," she said equally breathless, with a mischievous grin, "I'm just getting started, William."

She began undoing the buttons to his shirt and since he was still dizzy with dumbness, he let her. His suspenders kept it mostly intact so only a thin strip of flesh was exposed. But it was enough. When she ran a hand down his chest, he shuddered and came back to his senses.

"Julia, what-"

She silenced him with another kiss, it wasn't nearly as potent as the last but was still plenty to get him to shut up for a few seconds; that is until her hand went lower and lower and-

"Julia, stop!" he sputtered, grabbing her wrist away from his most sensitive area.

"It's okay, William," she purred again in that oddly enticing way and he loosed his hold.

Julia began peppering his neck with kisses, in a similar fashion to what he sometimes did to her. Now he understood why she made the sounds that she did, the skin here was very sensitive and the least bit of touch was enough to make _him_ purr. But he didn't actually. On top of all this she was stroking his bare chest, reaching all over the place, further sending his senses alight and tingling.

Again while he was distracted in an ecstasy of bliss, her free hand wandered back to his trousers. For the moment he did nothing but when she gave him a little squeeze he yelped and jumped back several paces.

"Julia, _please_!" he begged, face flushed and hot. "You know I can't!"

Her eyes were dark with passion and she didn't seem to be hearing him any longer. Instead she tried to grab him again but he dodged her nimbly, his adrenaline surging through the roof. They danced this way for almost half a minute before she finally realized what she was doing. To anyone outside of the situation, it would have appeared quite comical, like Murdoch had been trying to fend off a wild beast in heat, but he was far from amused.

Blinking a few times as she cleared her mind she mumbled, "Forgive me, William, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just thought-"

"Don't give it a second thought, Julia," he said stiffly as he did up the buttons on his shirt. "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

_In fact, it almost happened the first night we courted._

Sometimes his religious beliefs were a damn nuisance. Where Julia was concerned, they almost always were.

They stood at arms length for awhile, eyes averted, not saying anything.

"Well..." she said awkwardly, rubbing her arm, "I suppose I should get going."

"I suppose," he muttered.

"Happy Birthday, William," she squeaked out as she reached the door.

Suddenly, seeing her so defeated and humiliated simply crushed him and he couldn't allow her to leave. At least not yet. He rushed to the door and slammed it shut just as she began to open it. She stared at him incredulously, understandably confused by his actions. Indeed, even he wasn't sure what he was going to do next. Though the fire inside him had dimmed, it had far from gone out and just being so close to her was enough to restart the blaze. With an iron will he forced that aside and tried to focus carefully on his next words. He wanted them to be perfect; he wanted to assure her that everything really _was_ fine between them.

What came out next was gibberish.

She raised an eyebrow at that but didn't comment.

Taking a deep breath he said clearly, "Marry me."

He didn't know who was more shocked by this statement. He wasn't sure what he had wanted to say anymore but it wasn't _that_! He wasn't nearly financially stable enough to know without a doubt that he could support them for the years to come. What if their engagement caused her father to disinherit her? Sure they could hide it for awhile out here but eventually he _would_ find out. And if Mr. Ogden disapproved of him _that_ strongly, would he _really_ be able to afford the rest of her studies? Or would he be condemning her to give up on her dream? Or even worse, to choose between him and it? From past experience, he already knew how that would turn out.

Unsurprisingly, those thoughts were all secondary to the other more pressing issue. He didn't even have a ring yet!

All of his worries ceased to matter when she responded.

"You can't be serious?" she asked, wide eyed, taking a step back from him.

Though he hadn't meant to propose then, he hadn't expected such an unfavourable reaction.

"Why shouldn't I be serious?" he countered, getting a bit angry, trying to cover up the hurt. He moved towards her. "Is that such a ridiculous question?"

"Yes!" she shrieked, continuing to back away from him.

"Explain," he said shortly, unable to formulate longer sentences through his increasing rage.

"You _just_ rejected me in an infamous manner! And now you expect me to rejoice at your hasty proposal?"

"Now just a minute-"

"Do you even _have_ an engagement ring to give me?!" He didn't respond which was all the answer she needed. She laughed without mirth. "Very romantic, William! I see you planned this out quite thoroughly!"

"Oh like you're one to talk!" he boomed. "You tried to seduce me not five minutes ago because you couldn't be _bothered_ to remember my birthday!"

"Lovely, William! Keep throwing that in my face! See how much longer I stay!"

"I'll bring up whatever the devil I want!"

And with that she marched towards the door with fire in her eyes. He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her in place.

"Let me go!" she snarled, struggling fiercely against his iron grip.

"You can't leave!" he said getting desperate.

He was deathly afraid that if she walked out that door now, it would be over between them.

"If you don't let me go right this instant, I shall scream until someone calls the police!"

"You wouldn't dare," he said darkly.

"Watch me!" she declared shrilly.

She opened her mouth wide to take in a big gulp of air and instinctively he sealed the hole with his own mouth. Though he couldn't see it since _his_ eyes were closed, _her_ eyes bulged in outrage. Squirming vigorously, she managed to get one of her arms loose and slapped him hard across the face.

He staggered back a bit, rubbing his red cheek, having a pretty good idea of what Mr. Sandhill must have felt all those months ago when they first met. That snapped him back to reality good and fast. But not fast enough. She was already out the door, and feeling thoroughly ashamed of his behaviour, he didn't chase after her.

He still had a great deal to learn about women, a very great deal.

_Lord help me_.


	13. Frame of Mind

A week passed and they had yet to see or speak to one another. They were both too stubborn to admit that either had been wrong and treated the other ill.

* * *

She knew better than to tempt him in that way! She must have known how things would have turned out! What had she been thinking? Where was her logic? Her reason? Her exceptional mind?

At first he wanted nothing more than to go to her and proclaim his undying love but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like this would never happen. He was almost always the one to cave, to give in to Julia and he was fed up with this. Sure, the previous issues had been about small things, nothing of any great concern, but this, this was something entirely different. She had needlessly crossed a line, had pushed him to break his faith, had almost ruined everything. And for what? There had been no need. He had told her as much.

And yes, he appreciated her strong will and modern sensibilities but there was only so much a man could take! What kind of prospective life could they expect to have together if she was always getting the upper hand where he was concerned? Though Murdoch didn't often outwardly show it, he was a very proud man and to be continuously kept at bay by another-no dominated- was more than he could bear! His father had dominated him for long enough in one lifetime. He refused to have this occur again.

So where did that leave them?

* * *

Julia cringed again as the memories of her untoward behaviour came flooding in. She was thoroughly embarrassed by that situation, a situation she had orchestrated by her need to please, to right some imaginary wrong. What had she been thinking? The answer was simple, she hadn't. For once she let her heart (and body) do the talking and let her brain take a backseat, not unlike that first night they had courted. She had no doubts that if she hadn't run away, he would have sinned deeply with her. If he was capable of such a thing after only one date, why was he so adamant about pushing her away now? Had all of that passion simply been the product of too much wine? Was there _really_ nothing more to it? She couldn't believe that, _wouldn't _believe that.

Regardless, the fact that she felt so embarrassed greatly vexed her. What she had done was perfectly natural! Why should she have to feel badly about behaving human? Why did her love life have to be dictated by some absentee Father? Why did William have to be so _damn_ religious?

She realized this was unfair. Part of what she loved so much about him was his firm belief in his principles. He hardly ever wavered, even when the temptation must have been monumental. To say he was a rare breed of man would be an understatement. With the exception of that night in the forest and his one outburst, he was entirely too perfect and it was maddeningly unfair! How was she expected to compete with that? What kind of future could they possibly have together?

* * *

Murdoch was furious with himself. He had manhandled her, had held her against her will. What kind of prospective husband does that? Of course it was perfectly acceptable (and legal) to beat your wife every now and then when she got out of line, or for whatever reason really, but that didn't make it right. He swore then that if they ever got back together, he would never lay an unwanted hand on her again.

* * *

How could she have slapped him? Her threat had been a stupid, pointless one, fuelled by a desire to get even, to for once try to make the playing field fair. It had taken all of her strength to resist him then, to not give in and just let bygones be bygones. So she had found a violent way out and it grieved her greatly that that had been the case. A lesser man would have retaliated, would have given her a black eye. Once again she was annoyed by how perfect he was. Where did his unyielding control come from? It couldn't be religion because there were far too many abusive religious types out there, who thought they should have full control over their wife (their property) at all times simply because an old book said so. Maybe she was wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't quite so controlled by the thousands year old dogma as she had previously thought. Maybe there was still hope.

* * *

Three days later he was out for a stroll on the beach. It had been ages since he was last here. Without Julia there had seemed no point. He walked briskly in the early morning dampness, trying to warm himself up. His hands were shoved deep into his suit pockets so that when he rounded a blind bend and collided with someone, he was unable to brace either of their falls. As he righted himself, profusely apologizing, he stopped dead in his tracks.

The woman across from him did as well. Hunched over they stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally they both decided to speak...at the exact same time.

"Wil-"

"Ju-"

A slight pause.

"Please," he said with a gesture of his hand as he helped her stand up fully, "you go first."

"Very well." Another pause. Looking apologetic, "It's hard to know where to begin."

"Indeed."

Yet another pause.

Fighting the urge to touch her again he said sorrowfully, "Forgive me, Julia, I behaved deplorably."

For some reason she felt like laughing. "No, you didn't, William, you really didn't."

"How can you say that?" he asked, the slight anger in his eyes returning. "I held you against your will!"

"And I slapped you! Hardly ladylike I should think!" At the mention of that, a certain salacious beach exploit flashed through his mind. He snapped back to reality when she continued. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I forced you into that whole mess!"

"_You_ didn't make me propose, Julia! I did that all on my own!"

"Yes, why did you exactly? It was hardly the time for such a thing."

How could she be so clueless! It was unbelievable.

"Because I love you woman!" he exclaimed indignantly. "That's why!"

The next thing he knew they were in each others arms and kissing up a storm. Her hands were up in his hair and his were gripping her on the back, bringing her close to him. Their kisses were far from gentle but rather were a visceral manifestation of all their pent up passions, both good and bad. He had pulled her down again and at this rate there would be a duplication of their last romantic endeavour here in broad daylight.

She pulled away from him and breathlessly said, "Yes."

He looked at her confusedly. "Excuse me, Julia?" She gave him a beaming look and he clued in. Mirroring her expression for several seconds, nothing happened. The world stood still. He could hardly believe his luck! The woman of his dreams (literally) had just agreed to be his wife! What a wonderful feeling! How exquisite! How-

Julia pulled him to her again, this time their kisses were far more refined, almost reverential. It might have been quite a sweet scene to the stranger moving towards them if they hadn't been lying on the beach, covered in sand and looking like sea monsters with their hair and clothes on end.

The elderly man walking his dog came upon them and scolded them. They paid him (and the dog sniffing them) no mind even when he threatened to get the police. Murdoch felt untouchable and couldn't have cared less what the old coot was going on about. It wasn't until he actually left to fetch the cops that they decided to take this party somewhere more private.


	14. The Charger II

Their wedding was scheduled for July twentieth; a few months after Julia finished school for the term and just three days after the unveiling of the latest Pendrick model. The previous boat prototype had garnered him a lot of attention so that this one was expected to attract even more. Since Murdoch was instrumental in its construction, he too would have to deal with the press and the public. Caring little for the limelight, he had become somewhat apprehensive about this prospect. Julia noticed his disquiet but simply chalked it up to wedding jitters. It wasn't until he confided in her that she realized her mistake. While she understood his predicament, she was also a bit peeved that this was the source of his worries and _not_ their upcoming nuptials. He was of course clueless to her annoyance and she wasn't about to bring it up, so this matter was left unspoken. That is, right up to the day before the unveiling.

Murdoch had been pacing around for hours while she fiddled with last minute wedding changes with Ruby (her father had also come in but was not staying with Julia). It was most irritating and given her own butterflies, she couldn't help but snap at him.

"Could you _please_ desist in that bothersome behaviour?"

He didn't seem to be hearing her and continued to pace.

"_William_!"

Stopping abruptly, he looked up at her confusedly, eyebrow raised.

"If you aren't going to help us, you might as well leave!"

"Now really Jules," said Ruby, also confused, "is that any way to speak to your husband to be? Can't you see that he's just nervous about the big day?"

Julia snorted. Never taking her eyes off of Murdoch she said, "Oh yes, that he is!"

"Julia?" he said cluelessly and warily.

She made an annoyed sound. "I can't believe you are more preoccupied with your work than with your own wedding!"

Ruby had the good grace to leave them alone then, even though it was clearly hard for her to miss out on all the drama. Apparently Mr. Ogden had gotten rather strict with her since her selfish and irresponsible departure the previous year, as was his God given right.

They were truly blessed that he hadn't caused a stink about their engagement. Perhaps after losing his own wife, he was more amenable to letting Julia have whatever made her happy. At least that way _someone_ in the Ogden household would be. Or maybe he thought this was the best way to get her to stop going to school and to behave more like a regular lady? If that was the case, he was in for an unpleasant surprise. Julia had made it quite clear to Murdoch that she would be continuing her studies after they were married. But since Mr. Ogden was no fool and in fact was funding her schooling, Murdoch knew this couldn't be the reason. It _had_ to be because he wanted to see her happy. That was the only logical explanation as to why a drunken fisherman's son was allowed to marry someone so decidedly above him.

"As I've already informed you-"

"Yes, yes!" she exploded, jumping to her feet. "I know! But from where I'm standing, you couldn't care less about our wedding! All you care about is your stupid boat...and James!"

"That is far from true, Julia," he said calmly, but keeping his distance, "and you know it."

"Do I, William?" she spat, crossing her arms in a stubborn manner.

He eyed her closely for a long minute. "What is the real reason for this discord between us?"

She grumbled for a bit and then responded. "How can you be so calm about our wedding day? Aren't you the _least_ bit anxious?"

Again he took his time answering. "No."

She looked at him incredulously. "Not one bit?"

"That is correct."

"Wonderful," she muttered, tossing her hands up."So I'm the only one going a bit mad?"

He took her hand and said, "I'm sorry that you feel that way, Julia. I had no idea."

"What's your secret?"

"Pardon me?"

"How are you staying so sane?"

Murdoch gave her a hesitating look. "Well...I suppose I just don't have any...doubts."

Which of course strongly implied that _she_ did and was likely to set her off again. He braced for her second onslaught. It never came. She glowered for a few more seconds and then her face softened.

"Truly?"

He simply nodded. She sighed.

"What's wrong with me then? Why can't I rid myself of this terrible nagging feeling?"

"Each individuals physiology is unique. No two people are completely identical. Why should our reactions be any different?"

"I suppose," she said, not at all sounding convinced.

Murdoch pulled her close and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Don't feel badly, Julia." A little while later, after their breathing patterns had synchronized, "I wish there was something I could do to help you be at ease."

"You've already done it," she said quietly, placing a hand to his face.

They smiled at each other and briefly kissed.

Fire came back into her eyes, but not of the romantic kind. "Now get Ruby back in here! We've got work to do!"

* * *

The Pendrick Charger II was on display for a massive crowd by the docks. Needless to say, the fishermen were again less than pleased about this invasion of their place of business but the security was much greater than the last time and they weren't about to start up.

After Pendrick had given his speech and christened the boat, the floor was given to Murdoch. All eyes were upon him and it was all he could do to keep a level head as the press asked him questions. However, it wasn't nearly as bad as he had been expecting, especially because Julia (and Ruby and her father) was there, and within five minutes the whole ordeal was over.

They had their picture taken with the boat and then it was time for the demonstration. Murdoch was granted the honour of playing captain (as an early wedding gift) and because of this, Pendrick shoved a captain's hat on his head, making the crowd laugh. Somewhat annoyed at this unexpected occurrence, he nevertheless shrugged it off and commenced preparations for getting the engine going.

They had figured out a way to make it slightly less noisy but only a very little. In the end, they wanted speed over all else and opted to adopt hearing protectors instead. With those in place, blocking out a portion of the massive roar, Murdoch waved to Julia and took off.

Zipping around the bay at 30 miles an hour, they put on quite the show. No doubt Murdoch's fantastic reflexes attributed greatly to this and was in fact the real reason Pendrick had let him steer, not because he really felt like he owed him anything.

The Charger flowed through the water like silk, which made it appear to barely even be touching, further stunning the crowd. Then they went out further until they were just a speck on the horizon.

Julia strained her eyes to keep them in sight, even with the binoculars William had given her. Eventually she gave up and just decided to wait until they got closer to shore. After five minutes of this, she started to get worried and murmurs of disquiet could be heard amongst the crowd.

Ruby linked arms with her."I'm sure everything's all right. Perhaps they just had some technical difficulties?"

"Yes," said her father nodding, "I'm sure your sister is correct."

She desperately wanted to believe them but that nagging sensation came back in full force and she just couldn't.

When fifteen minutes had elapsed she knew something was terribly wrong, she felt it in her gut.

"We need to go out there and look for them!" she exclaimed.

"Now Julia-" began her father.

She rounded on him. "If you don't want to help me then so be it! But I'm going!"

"As am I!" said Ruby.

"_Girls._"

They glared at him and he relented. "All right, let's see if we can find someone to take us out."

Luckily Pendrick had just such a contingency plan in place and members of his team were already preparing another boat (a Felucca that a kindly fisherman had let them borrow). It should be noted that The Charger II was simply a reworking of the previous model and that's why they didn't have access to another boat of their own; that and Pendrick's disdain for the tediousness associated with sailboat preparation.

It was easy enough to convince the crew to let them aboard because Pendrick had also given instructions in that regard. Within a few more minutes the preparations were complete and they began making their way out to sea.

Julia was beside herself with worry and annoyance. _They were moving so slowly! How were they ever to find them? What if..._

Ruby took her hand and they shared an anxious, yet knowing look. Her sister squeezed her trembling hand and for a moment she felt slightly better. Then in an uncharacteristic gesture of familiarity, her father took her other hand and they sat in a foreboding silence for ages.

"There!" shouted a man nearby. "I think I see something!"

Julia jumped to her feet and glancing through the binoculars looked in the direction the man was pointing. Her worst fears had come true! The boat was overturned, no half destroyed! It appeared that they had run into another boat at great speed. Several bodies remained floating near the wreckage. She could not hold back the tears when she spotted a familiar looking captain's hat near one of them, one with a lovely shade of dark brown hair...


	15. Aftermath

As they approached the wreckage, Julia stood there numb and nauseous, gripping the gang rail with enough force to crack bone. Many poor souls had lost their lives that day but she only had eyes for one in particular. When they were closer, she tried to jump in with some of the crew but her family held her back. With all of her heavy layers, she would undoubtedly have become another casualty.

It didn't take long to realize their priority was James (after all, he was the one who paid them, not William). She was beyond enraged so that she couldn't even scream, the sound was strangled in her throat. Some of the men dove under to look for him while others searched amongst the ones propped on debris. A few bodies were brought up from below.

Finally they got to the man near the captain's hat. Most of his body was obscured by debris so that only his face down head was visible. The men moved the planks aside and flipped his body over. Instantly she relaxed. Clearly he was not William. There was a collective sigh from her and her family.

Then another worse thought entered her mind. If he wasn't here, then where was he? Why wouldn't they have waited for rescue?

She wouldn't likely be getting that answer any time soon but there had been a survivor and she was now attempting to revive him to a more coherent state. In the end, all that was necessary was some smelling salts, her medical knowledge was not needed.

She tried to restrain herself but couldn't. Grabbing the man's shirt she shook him.

"Where are they?" she yelled. "Tell me!"

He looked at her blankly with unfocused eyes.

"Julia," said her father with a hand to her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

"What happened? Did you imbeciles run into them?"

"Jules, maybe if you just give him a minute he'll-"

The man went limp and she slapped his face a few times, bringing him back to reality.

"Tell me what happened!"

He groaned and put a hand to his head. Then finally he began to focus on her.

"Did you hear me?"

He nodded once.

"Well?"

"I dunno," he said slowly, almost drunkenly. "One minute there was no one there and the next, we had collided!"

There was a bit of a blind bend here...maybe he was telling the truth? It wouldn't be the first time William had run into someone.

"And then what happened? Did you see where they went?"

Again he nodded. "I think so. Just before I passed out I think I saw them headed in that direction." He was pointing due East. From the little she knew about the geography here, that would likely take them to shore via the fastest route.

Once more she wondered why they hadn't just stayed put. Her feeling of trepidation increased.

As soon as they were close enough to shore, she jumped out into the water, getting soaked up to her waist. There was no one in the immediate vicinity but when she glanced through her binoculars, she spotted footprints of a sort in the sand not too far away. They were more like body trails though, like someone had been dragging the other. Trying not to think too much about what that implied, she began sprinting in that direction, holding her wet skirts aloft, and cursing herself for the unnecessary added weight. Ruby and a few crew members caught up to her half way but she barely paid any attention to this fact.

Further up the beach she was able to see two dark shapes. Neither was moving. Whether unconscious or dead remained to be seen.

She dropped down beside William, completely ignoring James and checked his pulse. He was breathing but it was very shallow. His face was deathly pale and his forehead had a nasty gash across it. As well, a crude tourniquet had been fashioned across his upper right arm. Even so, a fair amount of blood had leaked out and continued to leak out. Julia bit her lip and held back the tears, this was no time to break down.

"Is he..." asked Ruby.

"He's alive," she said shakily, stroking his face a few times.

"Thank God."

She never had before but she might very well start. The few crew members who had come with were now dealing with James. He seemed to be in better condition and she supposed that made sense. William would have been at the forefront of the collision.

Using the supplies that one of the crew members had brought, she hastened to make a proper tourniquet, one that would be heavy duty enough to stem the flow of blood completely. As she did this, she realized his arm was broken as well because of the way it felt and because William stirred slightly in order to wince when she touched that area. Again she bit her lip. With the more professional tourniquet in place, she cleaned and bandaged the slash. There were no needles for stitches (besides she didn't really know how to do those yet) so that would have to suffice for now. Next she attended to his head wound and then commenced checking William's torso and limbs, looking for any rips in the fabric and additional damage to his frame. There were a couple of cuts here and there but they appeared to be minor. Finally, she made a sling for his broken arm. There was nothing else she could do for him right now.

Turning her attention to James, she found him propped up on a shoulder, eyeing William and then her.

"Will he be all right?" he asked so wearily that she had to strain to hear him.

"I don't know," she responded, equally drained but for different reasons. "He's stable for the moment but he's still very weak."

Pain crossed his eyes. "I tried, I really did..."

"I know."

She knew that without his intervention, William would have bled out completely long ago. She was beyond indebted to him. With that in mind she examined James as well, ignoring his protestations that he was fine. Miraculously, and as far as her medical knowledge knew, he was.

Julia stood up and stretched out her back afterwards. Everyone (including her father who had appeared at some point) looked to her.

"We need to transport William to a hospital."

_They'll be able to take care of him better than I can._

The crew members looked to James and he said, "You heard her. Get to it."

"I want you to get checked out by a professional too, James." She said this rather sternly.

"Oh all right. Someone help me up. I'm quite drained."

One of his employees hastened to comply and the others picked William up by the arms and legs. He again broke out of his unconscious stupor for the express purpose of wincing.

_Dammit! I wish we had a stretcher!_

"Be careful!" she barked. "You're hurting him!"

With difficulty they readjusted the way they were holding him and began heading back to the boat (unfortunately it couldn't be moved closer to them as it was too rocky there). On the way, arm and arm with Ruby, she asked James what had happened.

"I'm not sure but I suspect the controls malfunctioned. Murdoch's reflexes were too good for anything else to be the case. Of course, I won't know for sure until I examine the wreckage myself." He sighed and hung his head. "I'm sorry, Julia. It should be me lying unconscious right now fighting for my life. I should have piloted the craft, not Murdoch. This was my responsibility, my legacy..."

She took his hand and he looked up into her eyes. "It's not your fault James. I wouldn't have wished this on anyone."

Considering how the others fared, they were extremely lucky.

He nodded once and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

Two days later Murdoch opened his eyes to find himself in unfamiliar, darkened surroundings. At first he was quite startled but then he noticed the sleeping form of his fiancee huddled in a chair nearby and he relaxed. He smiled and then his head spasmed and he tried to reach up but his arm was in a sling and he couldn't. Using his good hand, he touched a large amount of bandage wrapped around his skull.

_What on earth happened? Is there any part of me unscathed?_

He wiggled his toes and was pleased that at least _they_ didn't seem to hurt. Suddenly he became very thirsty and reached for the glass on the bed stand, inadvertently knocking it over. The resulting noise woke Julia up. They observed each other for a second.

"William!" she exclaimed hopping over the broken shards and almost into his lap.

She hugged the undamaged side of his body and he embraced her the best he could.

"I take it the demonstration didn't go as planned?"

Julia made a face. "That's one way of putting it." She stroked his face. "I thought..." Her voice trailed off when it became choked with emotion.

"Julia?" he said taking her hand. "Please tell me what happened."

"Do you remember nothing?"

He shook his head. "Just getting into the boat. That's it."

As she filled him in, his eyes got bigger and bigger in disbelief.

_ So many dead because of me! How am I supposed to live with this knowledge?_

"...and so yesterday James examined the wreckage and determined that it wasn't your fault."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "How so, Julia?"

"It's quite evident that someone sabotaged the Charger. The controls had been tampered with."

Murdoch kept his anger well hidden. "Has the culprit been apprehended?"

"Not yet. James had a lot of enemies it seems."

_I can imagine, he's not the easiest person to get along with._

A brief lull ensued and then he realized something.

"What day is it, Julia?"

"July nineteenth," she said sadly. Sighing, "I'm afraid we'll have to postpone the wedding until you've fully recovered."

"There's no need," he said struggling to sit more upright. "I'm fine."

Smirking slightly. "Yes, I can see that."

"I'm serious Julia. I refuse to have my life dictated by some miscreant. Our wedding will go ahead as planned."

She eyed him in surprise. "That's really not advisable. You need to rest and get your strength up."

"I've decided."

Julia got mad. "So I have no say in the matter? Is that it? Which one of us do you think is more qualified to make that call?"

"Julia-"

Angry tears sprung up. "You almost _died_, William! I almost lost you! And now you brush it off like it is nothing? Have you no compassion for my nerves? _You_ might think you are ready to get married tomorrow but _I'm_ in no condition for it!"

"I'm sorry, Julia, I didn't think-"

"No, you didn't!" she said huffily.

"If you want to wait, then we'll wait. Though, I'm not sure your father will be too happy about that."

"Oh he's got more money than he knows what to do with! He couldn't care less about it all going to waste!"

A silence ensued.

"Julia," he said tentatively, "could you possibly get me something to drink? I'm quite parched."

"If you're so _fine_, William," she grumbled, "why don't you get it yourself?"

"Please, Julia."

"Oh all right." She reached across him to get a fresh glass and filled it up with the pitcher. "Here," she said shoving it under his nose.

"Thank you, Julia."

Within seconds he had drained it and asked for more. After that glass he was feeling better. He noticed she was absentmindedly playing with her engagement ring. It wasn't the biggest or most expensive one he could have purchased but it was beautiful, just like her. It pained him much more than his injuries ever could that they'd have to wait longer until they could be wedded. But so was the way of life. At least they still had theirs.

He brushed the hair out of her face, bringing her attention back to reality. They shared a look and the anger gradually ebbed away until only pure love remained.

"Why is it so hard to stay mad at you?"

Murdoch brought their lips together for a long while.

"Ah yes," she breathed out afterwards, smiling, "that's why."


	16. Transitions

Murdoch's accident resulted in several things happening. The first was the realization that he still very much enjoyed solving mysteries. As soon as he was able to leave the hospital, he got straight down to business. Using his sleuthing mind, he ascertained the culprit within twenty four hours. After he ruled out Pendrick's competition, it didn't leave too many more suspects. In the end Murdoch was not at all surprised that the same angry fisherman from the previous year could have been capable of this diabolical act. Undoubtedly he never expected such carnage to arise from his tampering but that by no means exonerated him of his crime. Likely he would not get the noose but would still go to prison for a very long time.

If Murdoch had been in better condition, and had access to the man at the police station, he probably would have beat him senseless. As it was, the San Francisco coppers did a good enough job of that for him getting the man to confess. He looked like a grape that had seen better days after they were through with him.

Needless to say, this case had made him very nostalgic for his old job. Helping to make the world a safer place was a worthy goal. However, all it took was a few choice memories about having his hands tied behind his back to remind him of why he had quit. That way led frustrations galore...and madness. If only he could find a place that allowed him full freedoms to police how he saw fit, then maybe he could start over. But where would he possibly find such a place? Did it even exist?

This leads to the second occurrence. He quit his job with Pendrick or rather, Pendrick did that for him. Most of the time the genius was not very sentimental but in this particular instance he was. Whether intentional or not, his creation had been the cause of six people losing their lives. This was simply something he had great trouble coming to terms with (as did Murdoch). Because of this, he decided to cease all operations in his oceanic endeavours and instead focus on modern architectural designs, his second love. Murdoch knew this was only half of the story though. The press had had a field day with their misadventure, giving Pendrick a ton of bad publicity and causing many of his sponsors to back out of their deals. No one would ever want to ride in one of his crafts even if he had decided to (or been able to) continue making them.

In an ironic way, the fisherman got exactly what he had been after all along. The Wharfs would never again be disrupted with Pendrick's inventions.

Murdoch did have a great interest in architecture but that was not where his heart belonged. He had a far greater affinity for keeping the peace. So the question was once again, where?

The answer came by way of a massive blow to Julia. The university was kicking her out! Just two weeks after the accident she received a letter from the dean. Apparently they couldn't abide having a married woman studying there. She marched down there and explained that this wasn't the case, she was still unwed.

The balding bespectacled man became very uncomfortable. "Yes, but if not for...recent events you would be. And once you are, your duties will be to your husband...and your children. We feel that if you continued to study here, this would be all but impossible as the course load is very demanding."

"I can't believe you are being so archaic!" she shrieked. "You're the one who accepted me in the first place! You must have considered the possibility!"

"Of course we did...but this has never been an issue in the past and now that it is, well, we have reconsidered. It wouldn't be proper for you to be spending so much time away from your future family."

Narrowing her eyes at him. "This is far from over. I intend to fight this ruling."

"As you wish, Miss Ogden, but I fear I must warn you now. You will not succeed. Once the board has made up their mind, they _never_ change it."

"We shall see about that," she said darkly, voice like thunder.

A week later when they finally decided to let her plead her case, the dean was proven right. She was quite sure that they had only agreed to listen to her for the sake of getting her to stop pestering them. They never had any intention of reinstating her position at the university. When Murdoch learned about this whole sordid affair from a sobbing Julia, he was incensed. If she hadn't stopped him, he would have beat the crap out of every single one of them, and damn the consequences.

"_Now_ what do I do?" she asked tearfully into his chest. "I've wanted this for _so_ _long_, William, but no one will have me! It's so unfair!"

"We will figure something out, Julia," he said with steely determination, "you have my word."

It took another week for them to consider all possibilities, both good and bad. The simplest way for Julia to get back into school would be if they broke off their engagement. But neither of them wanted this so that option was off the table. Besides, since they treated her so abominably, she wouldn't have gone back there even if they had begged her.

By the end of their discussions, they knew exactly what they would do. Julia would go home to Toronto and Murdoch would go with her. They would start over there. Maybe this time around she would be able to get into a school closer to home? One thing was for sure, there was nothing left for them in California. They would not even be leaving anyone behind (except for Isaac but that is neither here nor there) because Pendrick had already relocated to Vancouver, his birth place. He claimed the mountains would be a true source of inspiration as he thought up his grand building designs.

With surprisingly light hearts, they boarded the transcontinental railway and set off.

There was little to do on the ride there and it became increasingly difficult to keep their hands off one another. If not for Murdoch's cast, they might have crossed a line again.

A few days after they arrived in Toronto, Murdoch finally got his cast removed. He was exceedingly glad to be rid of it as it had become quite itchy (and smelly) in recent weeks. He showed off to Julia a bit, flexing his long unused biceps. She laughed at his display and it did both their hearts a world of good.

* * *

He would stay in one of the guest quarters of the Ogden mansion until they were wed. And they would be wed on September tenth. That was just six days away. They could barely contain their excitement. This time around Julia didn't seem to be nervous in the slightest and just made Murdoch all the more eager. If it hadn't been for Julia's family constantly hovering (ie. Ruby), they might have crossed a line again.

Four days before the wedding, Julia received wonderful news. It was an acceptance letter to McGill University in Montreal! Previously they had turned her down due to the overwhelming number of female applicants in 1884. It was no wonder, they were the second university near Toronto to start accepting women (Queen's did the year prior but they were only accepting very small numbers). But some of the women had dropped out, finding their studies too difficult and now several spots were available.

Classes started on the thirteenth so they now knew where they would be continuing their honeymoon after the wedding night. Unfortunately after travel time was taken into account, they would only have about a day and a half to enjoy their change in status uninterrupted. Murdoch was determined not to waste one second of it.


	17. A Night to Remember

**Note: Sort of M-ish, think along the lines of _The Domino Effect_**

* * *

Since Murdoch had no family or friends in Toronto, the wedding was a small, intimate affair, populated solely by members of Julia's entourage. Pendrick would have come in to be the best man but he had taken ill and could not travel for such an extended period of time. Murdoch hoped that he would be okay. As he did not have a best man available, Ruby did not act as maid of honour, to no small disappointment on her part.

In any case, the ceremony had been quite lovely, from the moment he set eyes on Julia in her elegant attire to the moment they said their vows and kissed as man and wife. Murdoch had never been happier or felt more blessed in all of his life and judging by Julia's ecstatic expression, the same could be said about her.

The reception was a short lived affair, shorter even than they had originally planned because neither thought a day and a half was really sufficient honeymoon time. Her father was a bit peeved at first when she informed him that they would be leaving early. After all, this was the second time he had funded their wedding and it came across as rather ungrateful. But Mr. Ogden could never stay mad at his eldest daughter for very long, (she was his favourite, though he would never admit that out loud) and so chuckled shortly after and they said their goodbyes.

That night they stayed in The Queen's hotel. It was quite a posh place, with all of the most modern conveniences known to man, including baths with hot running water, very hot, positively steamy. What occurred between them that night could also be labelled as such.

As soon as their suite door closed behind them (and a bit before that) they were making out and tearing each others clothes off. In his haste, Murdoch accidentally ripped a seam on her dress. Julia either didn't care or didn't notice or both because that was not stopping her from unbuckling his pants. Both of them were now in nothing more than their underwear and he pulled her close, necking her all the while, fiddling with her corset laces and getting nowhere fast.

She laughed a little in a breathy manner and placed her hands over top his own in order to wordlessly inform him that she would be taking the reigns on this. However with his hands liberated, he grabbed her by the bottom and it became rather difficult to concentrate on that task. Eventually Julia realized she was running her hands through his hair and brought them back behind herself and expertly undid the laces. She let the corset fall to the ground and he buried his face in her bosom, making her moan slightly. Together they tore off his own shirt and he yanked her full against him, making him moan slightly. They stayed this way for awhile, furiously kissing. Then he led her (or rather picked her up) to the luxurious King sized bed and plopped her down. Julia pulled out her hair pins and the auburn tendrils cascaded down. She gave him a come hither look that he instantly responded to. Once they were completely disrobed, the real fun began.

* * *

Afterwards they cuddled in a sweaty tangle of limbs and bliss. Once his senses had returned he asked her something fairly awkward.

"Um, before Julia, when I...when we were...did I hurt you at all?"

"A little," she said nonchalantly but then seeing his mortified expression, gazed at him deeply and touched his face. "It was a good kind of hurt." She kissed him for good measure but he still didn't seem to be convinced. "William, it was almost unavoidable the first time." He was a learned man in most areas but maybe not this particular one. "Surely you already knew that?"

"Well yes but I still don't like the thought of causing you pain, however minimal."

_ Most men wouldn't have given this matter a second thought_. _Or even realized that they were hurting their bride. _

She smiled and entwined their hands. "I know and that's why I love you so much."

Finally he returned the smile and round two commenced.

* * *

After the fourth time when they were very exhausted, they fell asleep in each others arms for the first time ever. Murdoch was quite sure he would have little trouble getting used to this occurrence or that he'd ever get tired of it. Even the intense heat emanating from her naked body wasn't bothering him in the slightest (though they weren't under the covers so in essence they were acting as each others blanket).

Before he completely drifted off to sleep he kissed her shoulder and murmured, "Sweet dreams, Mrs. Murdoch."

"The same to you, husband."

Sometime later, he wasn't sure when (for he had no clock readily available) he was awakened by an annoying sound. Bleary eyed, it took him awhile to figure out what it was. Julia was now on her back and snoring loudly. The sight of her mouth wide open like that, with a little drool hanging was fairly comical to him and he chuckled quietly, almost internally. He didn't want to disturb her slumber so he simply watched her and the slow, continuous rise and fall of her chest. Then he stopped what he was doing as he felt the stirrings of something down below. If he let that manifest itself fully, he would definitely end up waking her up.

So instead he tried to get back to sleep. Somehow her snoring seemed to get louder (and perhaps it was) making this all but impossible (even though he was quite exhausted from his repeated exertions). After tossing and turning for a bit longer, he gave up, got dressed and went downstairs. The clock in the lobby said that it was almost three in the morning but still there was the dulcet sounds of a piano emanating from nearby in the lounge area. He went over to a comfy looking chair and collapsed into it.

A waiter came over and asked if he wanted something to drink. Murdoch declined and soon found the soothing music to be lulling him to sleep. If he fell asleep here, Julia would ask questions the next morning, which would force him to tell her that she snored like a boar. That didn't seem like a very good way to start off their marriage but then again, she always admired his honesty in all matters so maybe it wasn't that big a deal? Even so, he didn't want to risk ruining one instant of their short honeymoon so he decided to hold off on the truth until after she was distracted by school again. And only if he absolutely had to.

However, before long he heard a lot of talking and the hustle and bustle of people going about their business and he snapped to attention.

_Uh oh!_

It was broad daylight out and the clock said it was after eight o'clock! Quickly he formulated a plan of action and ran to the dining hall to order some food. This was a backup plan though and he was hoping that he could still get back to the room before she awoke and avoid any unwanted questions altogether. So he hurried back up the stairs, taking two at a time, and causing several people to stare. Once he reached their suite door he patted all of his pockets and realized he had forgotten to bring a key! Panicking, he began sprinting back down the hallway when he saw a cleaning lady around the bend. He rushed over to her, startling her.

"Please!" he exclaimed, "It is imperative that you open my door immediately!"

"What's happened?" she asked warily. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, it's fine! Now come on!"

The bewildered lady did as he asked and he thanked her profusely. Murdoch closed the door, (and his eyes) leaning against it, catching his breath. When he opened them, it was to find a clothed Julia giving him a death glare.

"And where have you been?" she said darkly. "I awoke to find you missing and was just about to go looking for you. It appears that you've saved me the trouble."

He took a deep breath. "I was just ordering breakfast for us." Trying to get her unfocused on his absence he continued in a seductive manner, "I figured you'd be very hungry after last night."

Julia didn't fall for his bait and raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Why didn't you just phone down to room service then? And why were you so out of breath?"

Was he really going to start lying already? Apparently so.

"I didn't want to wake you and I wanted to order it before you awoke...so I was rushing."

She was still eyeing him somewhat suspiciously so he went over to her and embraced her. It was a reassuring sign that she let him. He parted slightly to give her a peck.

"That was very thoughtful of you, William." She sighed. "I'm sorry for being short with you. It was just a bit alarming to find you already skipping out on me."

"I'm here now, Julia, and I'm not going anywhere."

They smiled at one another and shared a few slow kisses.

"We really shouldn't start that again," she breathed out. "We have to get going soon or we'll miss our train."

"Forget the train," he whispered back, bringing her in for another kiss.

"I'd love to, William but if we miss it-"

"We'll just catch the next one. There's no reason why we couldn't stay here another night."

He began necking her and she rolled back her head, sighing in pleasure. "No, I suppose there isn't."

Before things could go much further there was a knock at the door. "Room service!"

"I've changed my mind," he muttered, "I'm not hungry...for food."

She laughed. "That may well be the case for _you_ but you were right before, I _am_ starving."

Begrudgingly he released his hold on her in order to answer the door. The hotel employee greeted him warmly and pushed the tray into the room. He eyed the wedding dress over the end of a chair.

"Congratulations, sir," the young man said smirking slightly and glancing at Julia in a way Murdoch didn't care for. "You have a lovely wife."

"Thank you," said Murdoch tersely, handing him a small tip. "Have a nice day."

"You as well," he said, winking. Then he took Julia by the hand. "Good day, ma'am."

"Good day," she replied.

If the man hadn't left right that instant, he would have gladly helped him along. When he turned back to Julia, she seemed rather amused.

Smoothing out his lapels, "Did I by any chance detect a bit of jealously, Mr. Murdoch?"

He grumbled in a non-committal sort of way.

"How adorable," she said, squeezing one of his (facial) cheeks.

Murdoch made an annoyed face at her but still didn't say anything.

"I'm afraid you'll just have to get used to other men paying me attention." She looked at him coyly. "Can you really blame them? Apparently I'm quite lovely."

"That's quite enough, Julia," he said, still a bit annoyed but beginning to relax.

"Call me by my new name," she whispered, placing her hands on his chest. "I want to hear you say it again."

He smiled. "As you wish, Mrs. Murdoch."

They kissed for a long moment.

"And now I really must eat something, or I will fall over."

"No worries, Mrs. Murdoch. I'll be there to catch you. You can count on that."

They were in the middle of feeding each other breakfast, including such exotic fare as strawberries and orange slices when there was another knock at the door.

Again he got up to deal with the unasked for interlocutor. It was the same woman from before, the cleaning lady! He almost closed the door in her face and then stopped himself, lest he raise Julia's suspicions.

"Could you come back later please?" he said as normally as he could.

"Of course, sir. I just wanted to see how you were faring."

"It's still fine, everything's fine."

"As you say, sir," she said and then moved across the hall.

Murdoch turned back into the room.

"What was that about?" his wife enquired.

"Oh nothing, just the cleaning lady."

Satisfied with that explanation (indeed it was the truth) they continued savouring the succulent fruit for many minutes. Afterwards they simply stared at one another.

"Now what?" she asked.

"I could try to scrounge up some cards or dominoes," he said with a grin.

She laughed. "I think we can find slightly better ways to pass the time."

"What did you have in mind?"

In answer she stood up and held out her hand to him. He took it and they entered the bathroom. The big tub was sitting there, just begging to be used.

"I like your thinking, Mrs. Murdoch."

"I thought you might, Mr. Murdoch."


	18. H Chiasson

They were so content to stay in their hotel room that they almost missed the last train to Montreal that would get them there in time for Julia's first day of classes. Murdoch practically had to run after it with the last of the luggage, Julia urging him on from the caboose. The ride there was uneventful save for them trying to find a private location to continue certain salacious exploits. They almost succeeded several times but kept getting found out so eventually gave up on that endeavour. However, once they reached their destination, they promptly checked into another hotel and finally got their wish for one last night.

In the morning after he had escorted her to McGill, Murdoch went back to the hotel and took the opportunity to rest his eyes a bit more. He hadn't wanted to risk another instance of falling asleep outside of their bed and so hadn't slept much in the last few days. He wondered how he would ever get a good night's sleep again. When they had their own place they could have separate sleeping quarters but then what did that say about their marriage? Sure there were those, usually of the upper crust who had such an arrangement but he didn't think he could handle such a thing, every night, all night, for the rest of their lives! Her presence was reassuring to him and helped him to drift off to sleep. It was only after about an hour or so that the trouble began. And even if he _could_ somehow become accustomed to the idea, would Julia understand? Or would she be hurt that he couldn't seem to share a bed with her except when they were making love? Didn't that make it seem like she was a harlot or no better than his mistress? What on earth was he to do?

With all of these troubling thoughts swirling around his mind almost simultaneously, it became impossible to get any real rest. So surrendering to the notion that he would be tired for the rest of his life, he got up in search of some strong tea. Perked up a bit, he decided to go explore the city and see what Montreal had to offer.

The air was different here, not nearly as crisp as he was accustomed to but there was a mysterious je ne sais quoi quality to it that was rather welcoming. There were many shops on every street, almost as many as in Toronto and far more than had been in Vancouver or California. The people here (often dressed more flamboyantly than he was accustomed to) were generally very boisterous and the shop owners were much more vocal about selling their wares. One even followed him for almost half a minute, trying to get him to buy some sort of odd looking hat. Like Toronto, people and carriages were everywhere and it was sometimes a bit overwhelming. The fact that he couldn't understand what most of them were saying added to his disquietude. His knowledge of French was poor at best. The nuns at the orphanage had not taught him any. Whatever he learned and remembered was from his own mother's teachings and books.

If they were going to make a life here, (for at least the next few years) he figured he better learn, (they both should) as soon as possible. This would be much easier for him to achieve since he had no other occupation. He would have rather learned the language together with his wife but she wasn't likely to have any free time any time soon and Murdoch wasn't one for idly standing by, especially if it would get in the way of getting a job.

For the second time in a year he had no idea what his career path should be, or rather, _could_ be in this place. Even if he wanted to apply as a constable here, he couldn't possibly, not until he could actually speak the people's language somewhat fluently. Scratch that, he'd have to be able to speak _and_ write it perfectly before any sane inspector would even _consider _hiring him.

Without further ado, he sought out a French instructor. It took awhile because it was difficult to get his point across with many of the locals. Finally someone who could speak a bit of English came to his aide and directed him to where he wanted to go.

The name on the quaint little sign read, _H. Chiasson,__ professeur de langue _and then below it the English equivalent. When he opened the door a bell tinkled and soon after a young woman approached him, smiling warmly. He took her to be the secretary.

"Bonjour, monsieur," she said holding out a hand that he took briefly.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle." He paused trying to figure out an actual sentence and failing.

"Are you here to sign up for lessons?" she asked in a surprisingly clear English accent.

"Yes."

"This way, please," she said gesturing towards the desk she had emerged from moments before.

Murdoch followed her the short distance and the woman pulled out a ledger of sorts.

"When would you like to begin?"

"As soon as possible."

"There's an opening later today at three o'clock. Would that suit you?"

Julia got out around that time and he was planning on meeting her.

"I'm afraid not."

"What about tomorrow at ten o'clock in the morning?"

"That sounds perfect."

"Your name, sir?" He told her. "Bon," she said scribbling a bit. "I will see you tomorrow then. I will not deviate from my schedule in the slightest so do not be late. If you are, I can't guarantee that I will be able, or even attempt to make up any lost time."

He paused for a second taking that in. "You are the instructor? H. Chiasson?"

She smiled at him faintly. "Why yes, Monsieur Murdoch, I am. Is that a problem?"

"No," he said, "I was just expecting someone...older."

_And a man._

"You are not the first to say such a thing but I assure you that I am quite equal to the task."

Murdoch simply nodded. "Until tomorrow then," he said touching the brim of his hat.

"Bonne journée, monsieur."

"Merci," he replied, not entirely sure what she had just said or if he had replied correctly.

After having lunch (his food was not what he had been expecting) and wandering about for a few more hours he returned to the hotel to try and take a nap before meeting Julia in an hour. This time around he was not worrying about their sleeping arrangements but he had been far too stimulated in the new, unusual city to be able to get any rest. Still fairly exhausted, he dutifully dragged his feet back to McGill University.

Julia appeared shortly after and she beamed at him from afar. Immediately he felt a little more lively but still far from his usual alert self. They greeted each other warmly with a kiss, not caring that they were in public. Besides, in this place, public displays of affection were everywhere. Yet another element that disconcerted him at first.

"Are you feeling all right, William?" she enquired, touching his brow. "You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," he replied.

_Just a little tired because you snore constantly._

Arm and arm they strolled out of the campus all the while discussing Julia's day. She seemed to be quite pleased with the orientation session. Apparently here the women were separated from the men and formed their own classes. He had thought she would be annoyed by such a thing but maybe after all of her constant struggles the previous year, this was a welcome change?

"I'm glad you had a good first day," he said.

"And you, William? How did you fare?"

"Very well. This city is quite interesting. Though it is a bit of a culture shock. Almost like an entirely different world."

"Yes, I felt that way too, even just on the University grounds. It might be prudent to learn the language a bit."

"Funny you should say that Julia..."

After he filled her in she seemed a bit out of sorts.

"What is it, Julia?"

"A woman will be giving you private instruction?"

"Yes."

"A young woman?"

"Yes."

"A pretty young woman?"

He had not said so but it was indeed the case though he hardly noticed.

He chuckled a little. "Did I by any chance detect a bit of jealousy, Mrs. Murdoch?"

She didn't respond.

"I'm afraid you'll just have to get used to other women paying me attention."

She made a face, trying not to smile at his continued use of her own words.

There was a slight lull.

"If you would like I can try to reschedule my appointment for when you are available. Sometime on the weekend, perhaps."

"That's thoughtful of you, William but unnecessary. Besides, I thought we were apartment shopping then?"

In his fairly sluggish state of mind, he had quite forgotten.

He scratched his forehead. "Oh, yes, I suppose we are. Well perhaps we can take lessons together at a later date."

She squeezed his hand. "I would like that very much, William."

* * *

"In order to properly educate you, Monsieur Murdoch," said Chiasson, "I must first evaluate your ability." He nodded. "Please say the following phrase: "Dis-moi gros gras grand grain d'orge, quand te dégros gras grand grain d'orgeras-tu?"

Murdoch looked at her blankly, wondering if this was a joke. Chiasson's face was inscrutable.

"Could you repeat that?"

She smiled faintly. "Let's try something more basic, shall we?"

He nodded. "Please."

"Say: Comment allez-vous aujourd'hui?

He said it.

"Very good, monsieur, parfait." He gave her a look. "It means how are you today." He nodded, thinking he probably already knew that but his mind was not working as well as it used to. "One could reply in a variety of ways. Such as bien, très bien, comme ci comme ça, terrible, etc."

Without thinking he muttered, "comme ci comme ça," which meant so-so.

Chiasson observed his semi-hunched figure closely, glancing down at his wedding ring briefly. "You are just married, no?"

"Oui."

"It is not my place, monsieur but, whatever is troubling you, just tell her. If for some reason it alienates you, you can always get yourself a mistress."

She said it so matter-of-factly, as if it was the most common thing in the world. He raised an eyebrow at that and parted his mouth slightly in surprise.

Her eyes sparkled almost imperceptibly. "Well, that's enough about personal matters for now. Let's get back to business."


	19. The Truth Comes Out

It was just Murdoch's luck. Now he had _two_ rather unpleasant things to tell Julia. The first was of course her annoying nocturnal habit and the other was about his alarmingly forward French instructor. He wasn't sure which one would be worse but he was determined to get it over and done with, like having a needle shoved in your arm. You dreaded it for a long time until it finally happened and then you realized it wasn't that big of a deal after all. At worst it hurt for a few days but in the end, it would be beneficial, hopefully.

However, they were supposed to be apartment shopping today so he held off broaching these subjects until later, when they were back at their hotel. Better to ruin as little of the day as possible, in as private a manner as possible.

"I'm absolutely _exhausted_," his wife intoned, kicking off her shoes and plopping into a comfy chair.

Murdoch did his best not to blurt out his feelings on that particular topic. It would be better to ease into it, to try and make it less of a shock.

"Who knew choosing a home for _two_ people would be so much more complicated than just for one?"

"Yes," he agreed, nodding, "there's quite a lot to it, far more than even I thought."

"Well, we better decide by tomorrow. I don't think I could manage to do that again."

"We shouldn't rush into this decision, Julia. We will have to live with it for quite some time."

_Literally._

"I know, William, but I am beginning to get tired of the hotel life. As nice as it is to have everything done for us, I want someplace to call my own, _our_ own."

"Agreed."

Suddenly an idea struck him and he pulled the matching high backed chair across the room and positioned it in front of Julia's.

"William?"

In response he picked up one of her legs and placed it in his lap and began to massage her aching feet. She sighed contentedly.

"I knew there was a reason I married you," she muttered, eyes closed, smiling happily.

"So Julia," he said nonchalantly while she was distracted, "what did you think of the two bedroom apartment?"

"It was fine," she said, "though I'm not sure why we even looked at it." She opened her eyes to wink at him. "It's not like we'll be needing it."

Murdoch grinned and then focused on the unpleasant task ahead. "What about guests? It could be used as a guestroom."

"I suppose," she replied, closing her eyes anew. "But how many guests do you really expect to have sleeping over?"

"Your sister could visit unannounced again."

Julia laughed a little. "That's doubtful, William. My father would likely disown her if she ever did anything like that again...and she surely knows it."

"Regardless, it could be useful to have a spare room."

There must have been something in the tone of his voice that alerted her to a hidden meaning. She glanced up at him quizzically but before she could say anything, he increased the pressure on her foot making her sigh in delight. He just needed a few more seconds to work up his courage, just a few more...

"I suppose," she repeated. "Couldn't hurt."

It was now or never.

Very quietly, almost soothingly, he asked, "And what would you say if..._I _were to use this spare room from time to time?"

There was silence for a moment and then her eyes shot open and she looked at him incredulously.

"_Excuse_ me?"

He knew she had heard him.

"Why on _earth_ would you want to do _that_?"

He sighed, moved her foot off of him and reached over to take her hand. "Loveliest Julia, I feel it is my duty as your husband to inform you that you...snore...quite badly...for most of the night." She just continued to look at him incredulously. "Don't get me wrong, Mrs. Murdoch, it is quite endearing...but I must confess to being utterly exhausted this entire week."

A brief silence ensued.

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" she enquired, a bit angry, pulling her hand out of his.

He gave her an ironic look. "I didn't want to upset you, or ruin our honeymoon."

She got angrier."So you kept this to yourself all this time just so that it wouldn't affect our love making? You thought I would spurn you for telling me the truth about my defects?" Realization crossed her face and then she scowled. "Our first night together as man and wife...you slept in the lobby, didn't you?!"

_This_ particular topic was_ not_ supposed to be up for discussion, not now, not ever. Caught off guard all he could muster was a weak, "Well..."

"You did! I can't believe this! We were _just_ married!"

"Julia," he said surprisingly calmly, considering his heart was pounding, "you've just illustrated quite vividly why I didn't tell you before. Can you honestly say that this discussion wouldn't have interrupted our time together?"

"Yes!" she shrieked. "William, you dolt, I'm only angry _now _because you didn't trust me enough, trust my emotions enough to tell me before! Like I was too weak to handle it! Like I am just some inferior version of a man!"

"You know that's not the truth, Julia. I have always thought of you as my equal, and sometimes even more than that."

His wife grumbled and crossed her arms against her chest. Ironically this was a good sign. It meant she was calming down a bit and would be more open to reason.

"We both know why you are really mad right now."

"Oh, we do, do we?" she huffed. "Please, enlighten me."

"You know as well as I do what this means for us. If we can't figure out a way to get your...affliction under control, I'm afraid I will be forced to sleep in separate quarters."

Tears sprung up in her eyes. "But you can't," she said softly, reaching out to touch his knee.

He placed his hand over top hers. "Believe me, Julia, that is the last thing I want...but it might be unavoidable."

She nodded vaguely and then a more focused glint came into her eye. "William, what have you tried so far?"

"Let's see," he said leaning back, counting off his fingers. "I've tried covering my ears with my hands, my pillow, cotton pieces. I've gone on jogs to try and tire me out more, taken some laudanum-"

"Even with a _sedative_ you can't get any rest?" she interrupted, heart broken.

"I wasn't taking very much," he said, grasping her hand again, trying to reassure her, "I can just take more."

"No," she said, sharply, squeezing his hand a bit painfully, "you can't, William. I don't want you getting addicted to the stuff."

He raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't heard that it was addictive."

"William, it contains opium!" she snapped. "Of course it is addictive!"

Silence.

Her eyes lit up and she said excitedly, "Well, now that you have _finally_ told me, you can just wake me up every time I start snoring!"

"But then I'd be interrupting your slumber."

"Oh for heavens sake!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "I've just granted you permission to get me back!"

"But it's not your fault," he said seriously, "you can't help it. Why would I want to punish you for something out of your control? And besides, you've got your studies to think ab-"

She placed a finger to his lips. "_Please_, William, just try this."

"All right," he said, taking her hand. "I will."

"Thank you." A pause. "Since we are being so truthful, is there anything else you want to tell me?" In a joking manner, "Do I perhaps kick you as well? Or steal all the blankets?"

"No, nothing like that."

She eyed him closely. "But there _is_ something."

"Yes."

He didn't respond.

"_Well_?"

The previous conversation had been extremely draining on him. His patience was almost at an end.

"I think my French instructor wants to be my mistress!" he blurted out, mortified with himself.

Julia blinked a few times and then started laughing uncontrollably, almost falling out of her chair.

He was bewildered at first and then frowned. "Julia, why exactly is that so funny?"

"I don't know!" she gasped out in between fits of giggles. "I just can't help myself! And neither apparently can Miss Chiasson!"

"Julia, nothing has happened between us..."

"Oh I know!" she said, still chuckling. "You wouldn't dare!"

"I will look for a replacement teacher immediately."

"Why?" she asked, regaining her composure. "Are you afraid that you will succumb to her charms?"

"Well, no, but it wouldn't be proper for me to continue to see her."

Julia shrugged. "Suit yourself, William."

Another lull.

"Now where were we?" she muttered. "Oh yes," she said, smiling and lifting her other leg back into his lap. "Hop to it, husband."


	20. From Bad to Worse

**Another slightly M-ish chapter. Well, one scene is anyway.**

* * *

Getting those things off of his chest seemed to do wonders for his state of mind. He half thought he'd be able to rest without having to attempt Julia's disruptive strategy. However, before long it became clear that he had no choice in the matter. Though their slumber started out as normal, with him holding her close, somehow she would invariably get loose and end up on her back and the goddawful racket would commence. So he gently awoke her and at first she was confused (half thinking he wanted to make love) and then she understood and they settled back into their embrace. But of course she would just break free and the same thing would happen all over again. By morning both of them were rather tired. This experiment continued for several more days, to no positive effect. In fact, things were now considerably worse because they were both out of sorts, as if they had been up all night making love or tending to a newborn. At least when he had children, he knew exactly what to expect in the sleeping department. It amazed him that so many parents were capable of going about their daily affairs as well as they did. Pretty soon he'd be sticking his shoes in the ice box and wearing hams on his feet.

"I can't believe you've felt like this all week," she mumbled groggily, eyes half closed. Her voice was fairly husky and her hair was a complete mess. On top of that she was only clothed in a thin nightgown so that her womanly form was silhouetted wonderfully. Despite his great fatigue, all he could think about was how enticing she looked right then. "You must be a machine to still be functioning so well."

"I don't know about that," he said equally huskily and she opened her eyes more fully. He stroked her arm and smiled. "But I do know of a way you can feel more awake."

She smiled back in a dopey manner. "Oh you do, do you?" Julia placed her hand beneath his red cotton pyjama top and ran her fingers up his bare chest, instantly perking him up. Even after everything they had experienced together, just her touch was enough to literally send shivers down his spine. "Could you perhaps be referring to a cup of strong tea?"

"Not, exactly, Mrs. Murdoch," he replied, returning the favour and cupping her breasts in his hands. "I had something a little more titillating than that in mind." Murdoch's thumbs grazed over her nipples beneath the thin fabric and he could feel them instantly harden. His wife's breath caught a little in her throat and he began to get excited.

"I think I'm beginning to understand, husband," she said breathy, her hand travelling to the lower half of his pyjamas. When she found her target his insides squirmed in delight. "But I believe a little more instruction is in order."

"That can be arranged, Julia," he said deeply, slipping his own hand in between her thighs and making her groan and shudder.

She glanced over at him and they communicated without words for several seconds. He felt like he could almost see into her very essence, her soul. He longed to be connected even more intimately so he moved closer and-

"Is that the time?!" she exclaimed, rolling away from his reach. "I'm terribly sorry, William, but I have to go! Classes start in ten minutes!"

And just like that she began throwing on some clothes, not caring that they weren't matching in the least.

"I'll make this up to you, I promise," she said apologetically, seeing his dour expression.

"You better," he grumbled, feeling terribly frustrated.

His wife gave him a quick peck and was out the door without another word.

_Could this day get any worse?_

Turns out it could.

After he attended a fairly fruitless class from his new male French teacher, (it wasn't so much that he was a terrible teacher, though indeed he was, but rather that Murdoch could not concentrate very well these days) he had the horrible misfortune of running into his old instructor, Mademoiselle Chiasson as he was vacating the premises! This occurrence was not so much surprising (Monsieur Lestrade's classroom was not more than a block away from her place) as it was awkward, especially because he had not informed her that he would not be returning as her pupil.

"Monsieur Murdoch," she said, holding out her hand to him. Begrudgingly he took it. "What are you up to this fine day?"

It was painfully obvious as to what he was doing there but she was apparently intent on making him squirm for his lack of manners.

"Well, I was just taking some..." he racked his brain for an alternative excuse. Suddenly he recalled the building behind him also had a studio. "Dancing lessons. I was taking dancing lessons."

She gave him an appraising look. "Without your wife?"

"I-I wanted to surprise her for a...ball."

He was quite pleased with himself for coming up with this deception.

Pleasantly she said, "A ball? And what ball would that be? I hadn't heard of any coming up."

"It's a private affair."

Chiasson smiled a little. "How unfortunate. Now I will not be able to see the fruits of your labour."

"No, I suppose not," he said warily, having the distinct impression that their conversation had had some kind of lewd context to it, but being too brain dead, he could not fully comprehend it.

Bluntly she said, "You have been avoiding me, monsieur. By any chance did my comment about taking a mistress scare you off?"

He didn't respond but looked away, silently answering for him.

"I hope you didn't think I was referring to myself." Murdoch hazarded a confused glance. "This is Montreal, monsieur, you should pay no more mind to that kind of talk than you would a fruit fly. But make no mistake, many here _do _have mistresses. However, I am not one of them, nor do I intend to be. I sincerely apologize if you thought otherwise."

"I see," was all he could manage.

"So," she said gesturing behind him, "will you leave this imbecile and come back to me? It will take ten years to learn anything of value from Lestrade." She made a disgusted face as she said his name, the first time he had ever seen it from her. "I can guarantee a much speedier result."

That wasn't very hard to do. But she was right, Lestrade was an imbecile.

"I don't know," he said slowly, "I will have to think about it."

"Please do. Well, good day, monsieur Murdoch."

"Au revoir."

* * *

William was passed out on the couch when she arrived back at the hotel. A newspaper had slipped out of his hands and was lying nearby. She smiled, happy that he was at least getting some rest today. Having no clue how long he had been asleep, she was determined not to wake him. And the best way to do that was to leave all together, so she did.

Julia went down into the lobby and then the lounge and ordered a drink. It had been a long day, a very long day. Just a few days without proper sleep had drained her thoroughly, already making it hard to concentrate on her studies. William had feared this but she would not be the one to tell him he was right. She was too stubborn for that. And besides, if she did, he would stop waking her and instead suffer terribly all night, well even more so than he had been.

No matter whether she could help it or not, she was the cause of his trouble and it vexed her deeply. Why did their harmony have to strike this unpleasant discord so early in their marriage? What could they possibly do that they hadn't tried already? She knew the answer to that question before she even thought it. But she couldn't bear it if they went down that road. First they'd be sleeping apart and then they'd grow apart. Then again, if things continued this way, that would happen regardless. They were damned if they did, and damned if they didn't.

She sighed and drained her glass of its contents. Then she ordered another gin and tonic.

There was one good thing about recent events. At least that Chiasson lady was out of the picture. Though she had pretended not to care because the situation before had been far too tense for her liking, she had. Greatly. The idea of someone other than herself caressing her husband made her sick to her stomach. Julia liked to think he would never betray her like that but she couldn't be absolutely certain, especially since things had been strained between them. It seemed all she did lately was cause a bigger mess. Feeling sorry for herself she decided that she made a terrible wife and that he deserved better than her.

Julia polished her second glass off.

They had their moments of course, when they joined as one. That kind of intimacy was important in relationships but it was also fleeting. If what was left was not equally desirable, the marriage would eventually crumble. Of that she had no doubt, having ample proof from relatives and friends alike. All it took was one domino falling to collapse the whole thing. Was her abominable snoring that hateful trigger?

* * *

Murdoch had had lovely dreams about all manner of things. He travelled far and wide across the land, but no matter where he went, Julia was by his side. It was just as reassuring to him in the dream world as in the real world. To his great dismay, he was forced to awaken when his bladder would not quit its urgent plea.

Once he had relieved himself, he realized that it was now dark out and Julia was not there.

_Strange_, he thought, _she should have returned hours ago._

He gazed around the room to see if a note had been left or any evidence that she had been there recently. There was none. Murdoch frowned and tried not to worry but found this difficult to accomplish.

Grabbing his hat, he headed out the door and into the elevator. When he got to the lobby, his brain started to function again and he asked the clerk if he had seen his wife in the last few hours. The man thought hard for a moment and then replied in poor English that he thought he had seen her enter the bar. That way Murdoch went.

Upon entering, he was met with an unwelcome sight. His wife was busy talking and laughing with not one man, but two! One of them even had the audacity to have his hand on her thigh! His guts clenched painfully and he felt like he had been stabbed. Trying his best not to overreact, he took a minute to compose himself and then moved towards the trio.

Julia looked up as he approached and seeing his thunderous expression, instantly sobered. This was quite the feat for he knew she was quite drunk right now. The last time she had gotten so wasted was on their first date. But he rationalized that instance as being okay because she had been with him, not these...louts.

"William," she said only a little sloppily, making the others turn to face him. It was then that she apparently noticed the man's hand on her leg and she appeared mortified, knocking it away from her.

Ignoring the men and through gritted teeth he said, "Kindly explain yourself, _wife_." He put an emphasis on the last word to see if the two men would take the hint. They didn't, they were too drunk.

"It's not what it looks like!" she blurted out dumbly.

"And what exactly _does_ it look like?"

She didn't respond and stared into her empty glass.

"Hey buddy," said the first drunkard, placing the same filthy paw on his shoulder that was on his wife, infuriating him to no end. "What's the problem? We were just talking!"

"Please remove your hand from my person," he said waspishly.

The idiot didn't listen.

Several of the nearby patrons got up and moved away from them. The barkeep eyed them warily but didn't say anything.

"You need to lighten up a bit," said the other bum. "Here," he said shoving his half drunk drink at Murdoch, "maybe this'll help." Murdoch did not accept it and the glass fell through the mans hands and splashed its contents all over their lower pants and shoes.

The second man shoved him slightly. "What did you do that for, you jackass! That was high quality bourbon!"

Julia caught her husbands eye and knew what was coming. She stood up and pleaded with him. "Please, William," she said tugging on his arm, "just leave them alone. Let's just go."

It was too late, all he could see was red. After his crappy week and now this...it was all simply too much to bear!

First he grabbed the drunks hand off his shoulder and pivoting, roughly flung him onto the bar, making a few more glasses crash to the ground.

The barkeep and Julia spoke almost simultaneously.

"Arrêt, monsieur!"

"William! Stop!"

Murdoch was deaf to all pleas. The second man looked shocked at first and then threw a sloppy punch. Murdoch dodged it easily and landed his own crushing blow to the mans stomach. He fell to his knees, clutching his abdomen. Then he began to puke and Murdoch took a step back. Someone ran into the lobby, yelling something in French, not that he actually noticed himself.

"William!" she begged, grabbing his arm again. "Leave them!"

The first man had recovered and this time he was holding a broken bottle in his hand. Murdoch shrugged Julia off and faced his opponent. The man swiped at him a few times, managing to draw blood from his forearm. Murdoch didn't seem to notice. He grabbed the mans wrist and squeezed until he dropped it. Then still holding on to him, he punched him in the face twice in quick succession, breaking his nose and causing blood to spurt out. The man yelped in pain and tried to get away but Murdoch was still holding him put, intend on causing as much damage as possible.

A shotgun was heard being cocked and everyone (except for the three men) looked up to see several constables in the room. They yelled something in French but he didn't understand or really even hear them. The blood rushing through his ears was still deafening. Before he realized what was happening, two constables had surrounded him and were hitting him with their batons. Finally their repeated blows caused him to release the man and one of them handcuffed him roughly. Murdoch fully came back to his senses and looked around the room in horror. He saw Julia's equally horrified expression and then was pushed along, out of the lounge and toward jail.

* * *

**Sorry for all the angst. Not sure how that happened. Things will get better...soon...I think.**


	21. Repercussions?

Murdoch wasn't sure which was worse, that he had lost control of himself in such an infamous manner, or that he had gotten a better nights rest than usual while locked up, away from his wife and her terrible racket _even_ though he had been guilt ridden about his previous actions. As he pondered this notion and his immediate future, a police officer that he had never seen before entered the holding cell area.

He was a young man, maybe late twenties to early thirties with similar hair to Pendrick that travelled down to his shoulders in slight brown curls. It was clear from his attire of a suit jacket that he was not a constable but someone higher up.

"Good morning," he said in a jolly way, with a thick French accent.

Murdoch simply grunted, annoyed at his demeanour and continued to sit on his lumpy mattress.

"I hear you had quite the night, monsieur." Murdoch just stared at him. "Is your arm feeling any better?"

"It's fine."

Ten stitches had been required but it had been nothing in comparison to the damage he had caused to the other men and the bar.

"Bon." The man eyed Murdoch strangely. "Normally I would just let you go at this point but you intrigue me, Murdoch. I want to have a bit of a chat first."

_Let me go with charges you mean._

"Is that so?" he muttered, starting to get a bit curious. "What about?"

"I took the liberty of doing a background check on you and found that you were once a Sergeant for the NWMP." He said the letters in French and ironically it was easier for Murdoch to understand him then than without his natural accent.

"What of it?" he asked shortly.

"That was quite the accomplishment for one so young. You must have a pretty good head on your shoulders." He smirked and a playful light crossed his eyes, "Most of the time anyway."

Murdoch stood up and went to the bars. "As flattered as I am, sir, what exactly are you trying to get at?"

"You remind me of myself, Murdoch. I too was ambitious at a young age." He gestured with a sweeping motion. "And now I am running this station house."

He raised an eyebrow. "You are the inspector?"

He had thought detective at most. This mistaken notion seemed to be happening frequently with the residents of this place and it was partly because no one here seemed to like to introduce themselves properly upon first acquaintance, as if they enjoyed being dramatic and mysterious for as long as possible. Murdoch was again annoyed.

The man nodded. "Inspector Marcel Guillaume," he said bowing deeply. "At your service."

Murdoch waited for him to continue to get to the point. The inspector snapped his fingers and the constable that had been watching him hurried over to hand him a stack of keys. Guillaume unlocked the cell door.

"Please," he said, "allons-y."

Guillaume led Murdoch into his office and closed the door behind him.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

He smirked. "Somehow I thought not." He sat down behind his desk, put his feet up and gestured to a chair. Murdoch continued to stand and the inspector shrugged. Guillaume leaned further back in his seat, to the extent it seemed he might tip over. But still his eyes had a clear line of sight to Murdoch.

"And now to the point, monsieur." Nonchalantly he said, "What do you say to working for me, for the constabulary?"

Murdoch looked at him like he was insane. He had just been arrested for breaking the law! He told him as much.

The inspector waved it away like it was of no consequence. "From what I understood from your wife," he caught his eye, "my compliments, monsieur, she is a beautiful woman," Murdoch opened his mouth to reply but Guillaume continued, "you were simply defending your honour."

"It was still uncalled for."

"I do not see it that way. Frankly, I would have been disturbed if you _hadn't_ done anything. I firmly believe that the best way to measure a mans worth is through his love of a woman...or women, as is sometimes the case." Murdoch felt like he was referring to himself with that last comment. "There is nothing more telling than how a man treats the fairer sex. Wouldn't you agree?"

Murdoch thought about all the delinquents who had beat on their wives and all the domestic disputes he used to have to break up as a junior Mountie. The memories were still enough to make him slightly nauseous and angry.

"Yes, I suppose I do."

"Fantastique!" Guillaume exclaimed suddenly, springing upright in his chair, startling Murdoch. "I'm glad we are on the same page! And now Murdoch, tell me truly, would you consider working here?"

"I don't know," he said slowly. "I mean, how can I? I don't even speak French."

Again he swatted the air, like a pesky fly was there. "A detail, monsieur, nothing more."

This whole encounter had puzzled him exceedingly from beginning to end but somehow he was starting to like this man. He was very confident and charming. Whereas with some men the latter would have meant deceits galore, Murdoch sensed that with Guillaume it was quite the reverse. What you saw was what you got, there were no secrets with this man. And yet...he seemed like someone who would never betray ones trust, once freely given.

"In that case, I will need some time to think about it...and get my wife's opinion on the matter."

"Of course, of course. Take all the time you need...but not _too_ long." He eyed Murdoch mischievously. "And if your wife gives any complaint, there are ways to change her mind," he winked, "if you understand my meaning."

Murdoch simply nodded, feeling embarrassed for some reason.

"Well, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, monsieur Murdoch," he said grasping his hand with vigour.

"The same to you, inspector."

_ Wait till I tell Julia. She is not going to believe this!_

* * *

"He _what_?" she said loudly, after he had informed her of the offer. She winced and put her hand to her head. Clearly she was still experiencing the after effects of her undue drinking the previous night. He was only a little sympathetic to her plight as he was still angry with her. For the moment though, all their other issues were pushed aside and this one topic reigned supreme.

"I know," he said giving her a sideways glance as they made their way arm and arm through a park, (she had taken the day off of school and instead had waited for his release, which as it turned out was much sooner and simpler than she had been expecting). "I was just as shocked as you are."

Julia had also been rather shocked (and equally relieved) when she found out no formal charges had been applied, (even though he had put a man in the hospital) that the whole sordid affair was being swept under the rug, like it had never existed.

She gave him a conflicted face. "It's an interesting opportunity, William, but...can this inspector Guillaume be a sensible man?"

"I believe so, Julia. I'll admit that I didn't think so at first but there's just something about him. It's kind of hard to explain. He radiates this unflinching confidence at all times and his logic is sound, if not a little peculiar."

"Yes, he's definitely that. Peculiar. My brief encounter with him was quite...eye opening."

_What did she mean by that? _

Julia caught his expression and elaborated, if not a bit embarrassed as evidenced by the slight blush creeping across her face. "I just meant he is a charming man...who speaks his mind."

So the rascal had probably professed similar impressions to Julia herself, as to what he had told him? For the briefest of moments he was jealous and then got over himself. As long as the inspector kept his hands to himself, Murdoch wouldn't have a problem with him. Back to the matter at hand.

"Is it really so strange that he would want a former Sergeant on his force?"

"No, I suppose not," his wife replied. "But how will you cope? You barely speak the language!"

Murdoch shrugged. "I can only assume Inspector Guillaume knows what he is doing. A man doesn't get to his position in life, at such a young age no less, without having a plan."

Or connections. If that was the only reason for Guillaume's high ranking position then he would be putting himself in another bad fix. But he wasn't about to say so in front of his wife.

There was a lull. "So you are seriously considering this placement?"

"I think so. Why? Do you not approve?"

"I'm just a bit confused. Didn't you leave the NWMP because you were tired of that lifestyle?"

"In part." In an unaffected manner, "Mostly what it came down to was that my boss was a completely brain dead bastard and I couldn't stand him."

"William!" she said, half laughing, half shocked by his word usage. "I've never known you to use such language!"

"What can I say?" he grimaced. "Major Jackson simply brings out the worst in me."

"Speaking of which," she said quietly, hesitatingly, "I suppose we should talk about what happened last night."

"Yes," he replied, matching her mood, "I suppose we should."

He gestured to a nearby park bench and they sat down. It was overlooking a small pond with a variety of ducks busy about their business. A few people walked by as they both gathered their own thoughts (and courage) on the matter.

Ever the gentleman he said, "Would you care to begin, Julia?"

"That seems only fair," she said, nodding once, not looking at him. After she took a deep breath she commenced at a rapid pace. "I'm not going to try to make any excuses for my actions. They were quite beyond the pale. There was no reason for me to have gotten myself into that situation in the first place." She took his hand and caught his eye, "I'm horribly mortified about this whole thing and you have every right to be furious with me, but I hope you can forgive my foolishness...and I'm terribly sorry," she finished somewhat lamely and out of sync with the rest of her speech.

He wasn't going to let her off that easily. "I want the truth, Julia." She gave him a questioning glance. "Clearly there _was_ a reason for your actions. You wouldn't have forgotten yourself so completely if you didn't have one. So what was it?"

She didn't respond.

"_Julia_."

"Promise you won't leave me!" she blurted out, very stricken, grabbing his sore arm, making him wince. "Not now, not ever!"

Murdoch was understandably taken aback but he was still mad at her so he responded otherwise. "That's a bit difficult, Julia. I think Catholics have a different heaven than Protestants."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!" she sputtered, close to tears.

He felt slightly bad about his response but wasn't breaking down at her display. If anything he was annoyed at her lack of faith in him.

"What has given you the notion that I want to leave you?"

She laughed in a choked kind of way. "Isn't it obvious?" He raised an eyebrow but didn't respond. "I'm a terrible wife! All I do is cause you pain! Soon you'll take Miss Chiasson as your mistress, and I won't even blame you!" Her voice got very shrill at the last bit.

Murdoch did not think this was the correct time to allay her fears on that score. Such a thing was beside the point now.

He stroked the hair out of her face. "Dearest Julia, what on earth are you talking about?" She opened her mouth but he continued, "Except for last night," (and when you left me), "you have never caused me any pain." Julia tried to say something else but he wouldn't let her. "We will figure out our sleeping issues eventually. You just have to be a bit more patient. _Something_ has to work that doesn't involve me being away from you. I firmly believe that. And so should you."

"I'm sorry for being so stupid, William," was all she could muster and then she broke down crying on his shoulder.

He rubbed her back as he held her. "You are many things, Julia, but stupid is not one of them. Excitable and volatile, maybe, but not stupid."

She continued to cry for some time and he simply hugged her until she was finished. Most of his anger on the matter had evaporated, like his wife's tears.

"Feel better?"

"Much," she said thickly.

Murdoch wiped the leftover tears away and then kissed her forehead. He stood up and held his hand out to her. With a faint smile he said, "Come now, Julia, we have a charming one bedroom home to acquire."

* * *

**Question: I'm curious, do you read the dialogue in the voices of the actors? If so, Guillaume's part must have been a doozy. xD  
**

**Also, this is officially the longest story I've ever written! Are you guys tired of it yet? Or should I keep going forever? :p**


	22. Lover's Quarrel

** M-ish again. Possibly more so than usual.  
**

* * *

Things were looking up again. They had solved their sleeping dilemma in a simple yet ingenious way. Since it was impossible to stop Julia from ending up on her back by just holding her in a sideways position, Murdoch designed a little contraption that would do this for her. No bondage was necessary though. All it took was a bit of glue and a tennis ball on the back of her nightgown. So each time she escaped his embrace and ended up on her back, it would be uncomfortable enough that she would self correct her mistake before the snoring started. The idea for this design had come from a children's fairytale entitled, "_The Princess and the Pea_," written about fifty years earlier. Of course Julia teased him mercilessly about this and he regretted ever telling her his source of inspiration.

In any case, both of them couldn't have been happier. Now that their sleep schedules were synchronized, everything else just seemed to fall into place; his lessons with Chiasson were going full steam ahead and he was making remarkable progress now that his mind was in top form again; his job at the constabulary was another constant learning process, of which he was also excelling at due to his prior police training. The only thing he couldn't get used to was not having a gun by his side at all times. Though he didn't particularly like them, his revolver had always been a reassuring thing to have on his person, just in case he found himself in a dangerous situation.

The language issue turned out not to be as big a deal as he had previously assumed it would be. All of the constables at Guillaume's precinct were required to be at least partially bilingual and the inspector had made sure to give him a partner who was quite accomplished. So with instruction from two excellent teachers fairly frequently, Murdoch was speaking French fluently, as if he always had, within just a few short months. The same couldn't be said about Julia. She could still barely string two words of sense together and Murdoch liked to tease her about her often ridiculous sentences. One time she asked him if he knew where the monkey sang to the moon.

He also liked to impress her with his impeccable accent. Based on the way Julia responded to it, he knew it was incredibly seductive and on more than one occasion, had shamelessly used his new found skills to get out of a fight...and into bed. Inspector Guillaume would have been so proud had he known. Not that Murdoch would ever intentionally discuss such things with his boss, though sometimes it seemed like the man knew regardless, as if he had a preternatural sense.

Today they were fighting about a recurring topic, that of Murdoch leaving his soiled clothing strewn about after a hard days work. Apparently he never got around to picking it up soon enough for her tastes.

"There's the hamper right there!" she exclaimed. "It's not that difficult, William!"

"Why do you care so much?" he grumbled.

"Because you are acting like a slob! And I refuse to clean up after you!"

"You are my wife, you have a duty-"

That was the absolute worst thing to say to her and he cringed knowing what was coming.

Her face became livid. "I am _not_ your servant! I will _never _be one!"

Quietly, "We should just get a maid then."

"And who is going to pay for that exactly?" She laughed without mirth. "_You_?"

Mr. Ogden had long since cut off her funding after he got the bills for their lavish hotel lifestyle. Besides, he felt it was only proper that her husband provide for both of them now that they had their own place. Hopefully when she was finished her studies, she would be able to get a job somewhere and have her own income, but until then, they were at the mercy of Murdoch's meagre earnings as a fledgling constable.

"You don't need to insult me," he said darkly.

"I'll do whatever the devil I want!" she shrieked, eyes like tempests.

As she stood there fuming, he gave her the once over and couldn't help but be turned on by how dangerously attractive she was when she was furious. Within seconds he was picturing her naked and decided he wanted to see that in live action.

He walked over to her (walking on the clothing that he hadn't picked up) but didn't touch her just yet. He needed to butter her up first.

"Je suis vraiment désolé, ma chérie. Pardonne-moi."

His wife eyed him angrily. "_Don't_," she warned him, tight lipped.

Murdoch gave her an innocent look and cocked his head to the side like a dog would. "Excuse-moi?"

"I know what you're trying to do, William. I'm not a complete fool!"

He made a tsking sound. "Ma Déesse. Ma Reine. Pourquoi nous battons-nous alors que nous pourrions faire l'amour?"

He was always so much bolder with his language when he knew she couldn't understand him. It left him free to express himself in a way he would normally never dare. Being around all these French men, especially Guillaume for a few months, undoubtedly also had something to do with it.

"Stop it!" she yelled. "Stop it this instant!"

Murdoch put his arms around her and she tried to squirm away but he wouldn't let her."Tu es vraiment belle lorsque tu es en colère_**,**_" he murmured, nibbling on her ear. He stared into her annoyed glare, their faces only inches apart. "Ton nez se plisse d'une manière tellement sexy. Laisse-moi t'embrasser sur ton joli nez." He attempted to.

"_William_," she said, in a low manner, trying to push him off of her. "I'm warning you."

"Laisse-moi t'embrasser partout," he breathed out and began kissing and suckling the tender skin of her neck, quickly attacking the sweet spot, hoping to find a chink in her armour. He could feel her beginning to give way under his touch but she was still being feebly defiant.

"No," she muttered, wiggling weakly. "It's not fair. You know I can't re-"

He brought his mouth up to hers and silenced her. At first she would not respond to his lips, would not give way to his tongue but then her resolve broke down and she gave in completely. She grabbed the back of his head and deepened the kiss to the extent that they were both moaning in pleasure.

When their lips parted she gasped, "Wicked man." Her eyes flashed hungrily. "_My_ wicked man." They kissed again for many seconds, exploring each others mouths with delight. "Say something in French. Do it now," she commanded.

"Quelque chose."

All of a sudden a transformation occurred and now she was hunting him, like she was the lion and he was the injured gazelle, helpless to fight back. Her intensity both scared and thrilled him. She pushed him on to the bed and flung herself on top of him, clawing at his shirt and ripping it off. He tried to do the same to her but she pinned his hands above his head with surprising strength.

"Again, say it again."

"Quelque chose."

Julia made a funny sound almost like whining and then attacked his bare chest, licking him all over, as if she were tenderizing her meal first before devouring it. When she reached his nipples and began to suck and tease them, he gasped,"mon dieu," and again tried to break free but she wasn't letting him move an inch. He felt as weak as a lamb and was only too happy to be led to the slaughter.

Finally, when he didn't think he could stand it any longer, she released him. Then while he recovered, she undressed before his eyes, like lightning, (adding to the pile of clothes on the floor) and he got his wish.

"Are you ready for your _real_ punishment?" she asked with a wicked grin, hands on her naked hips.

All he could manage was a weak, "Oui," and then she was on top of him again, attacking every part of him. Before long he couldn't even remember his own name and if it meant feeling like this for all time, he didn't ever want to.

While they were still basking in the afterglow she said, "Are you going to clean up your mess now," her eyes flashed, "or do I have to punish you again?"

"Just give me a moment," he murmured, exhausted. "I don't think I would survive another onslaught of that magnitude."

"Pity," she said, squeezing his bottom, giving him another twisted grin. "I was just getting started."

* * *

**Thanks so much to AA for helping me out with the French bits! Couldn't have done this without you! I hope you enjoyed the end product!  
**


	23. Double Trouble

Another school year had come to an end and Julia was most appreciative. She was beyond burnt out and was quite sure she would have dropped dead (adding a new corpse for the others to practice on) had there been any more exams and practicals. Somehow she had to get through another two years of classroom studies and then another two to five years for her internship and residency! Just the idea of so many years ahead of her was a bit overwhelming. Of course she had always known her dream of becoming a doctor would be a long time coming, but imagining something was entirely different to actually experiencing it! She had thought she was made of sterner stuff than this and it vexed her greatly that she seemed to be so weak, especially because the hard parts were yet to come.

William must have sensed her disquiet for he broached the issue one day. After he had comforted her and assured her she was anything but weak, she calmed down a bit and they got to discussing their summer plans. Since William was only recently brought on as a constable, they didn't think it too likely Guillaume would let him off for an extended period of time. So travelling overseas to Europe was out of the question. Besides, they (meaning William) didn't have the income for something like that. Julia pretended not to care but she was a bit disappointed. She had always wanted to go to Prague and visit the national museum and the castle. If she hadn't been married to William, her father would have gladly paid for her trip. She felt bad for thinking such a thing. It wasn't her husband's fault that he hadn't been born rich or that she hadn't bothered to go there earlier when she had the chance. For all of her bravado most of the time, the truth was she never felt nearly as confident as she let on. As such, she had been afraid to go to foreign soil by herself and so had missed her chance to explore the world. It was quite ironic. Now that she had the perfect travelling companion, (Ruby was only manageable in small doses) it was pretty much impossible to go anywhere! Well anywhere distant anyway. William had managed to get a week off from work in July and they had decided to visit her family during that time.

This time they actually enjoyed the sights and sounds of the train ride to Toronto, a fact that one of the staff was only too pleased about for he had caught them being indiscreet the previous year. Admittedly, there wasn't that much _to_ see, the landscape did not vary that much from Montreal. Mostly there were just a lot of green, rolling hills with bright patches of flowers here and there, as well as the occasional rural house and accompanying barn and farmland. But let's not forget the maple trees. There were tons and tons of those. No matter how many there were though, the sugar confectioners simply did not possess the same skill as those in Montreal and Quebec, who practically lived out in sugar bushes. Therefore maple syrup in Toronto would never be as good as anything Murdoch had tasted back 'home', unless of course it was imported. And considering how wealthy the Ogdens were, just such a thing was entirely plausible.

* * *

"Jules!" shrieked Ruby the instant they entered the Ogden mansion.

Her sister jumped into her arms, quite literally, almost knocking Julia over. William placed a supportive hand on her back to keep her upright.

"Ruby," she managed to squeak out in her surprise and annoyance at the monumental bear hug she was now enduring.

"Oh sister, how I've missed you! It's so good to see you!"

Julia patted her back a bit. "Yes, the same to you, Ruby. Now do you mind releasing me so that I can breathe again?"

"What? Oh sorry!" she said, disengaging herself and giggling like a little school girl.

Technically she was still a teenager but Julia knew better than that. She had received an alarming number of letters over the past year detailing things she had rather not know about. Ever since their 'talk', her sister had become much bolder and open about such things and now for some unknown reason deemed it necessary to tell _her _about each and every one of them! If their father knew about any of it, he would promptly disown her. All it would take was one slip up with someone saying the wrong thing, or seeing her acting indiscreetly, or heaven forbid if Ruby _herself _was careless enough to leave a half finished letter out in the open for a noisy maid to find. Julia was afraid the truth was bound to come out eventually, so much so that the question was not if, but when. Then she would feel obligated to take her little sister under her wing, something she was not particularly thrilled about. Funnily enough, Ruby and her amorous exploits would fit right in in Montreal.

"Hello, Ruby," said William shortly after.

"William," she said holding out her hand, smiling brightly, "how lovely to see you as well. I trust you've been keeping Jules well occupied since your honeymoon."

William raised an eyebrow at that, still grasping her hand. Clearly he was unsure of how to react.

"Ruby!" gasped Julia, utterly shocked and flabbergasted at her sisters blatant disregard for proper manners.

A new, young servant that Julia didn't know the name of, was trying their utmost to pretend like they hadn't heard that in the lofty halls of the grand entrance, trying but failing miserably. She took one look at her and the poor thing skittered off down the hallway in fright and embarrassment.

Ruby looked confused. "What's wrong?"

Julia made an exasperated sound. "Now really, Ruby, do you need to ask that? Think about what you just said!"

Comprehension dawned and then her sister laughed! "Jules I was just enquiring as to the state of your wifely duties. If you were performing adequately or not."

Julia was incredulous. Shrilly, "I really must insist that you desist in that kind of talk!"

"Huh?" Ruby waved a hand in an annoyed manner. "Oh for heaven's sakes! I was referring to chores and such! I can't believe you'd think I'd be _that_ inappropriate!"

Julia was about to retort but they were interrupted by a man's commanding voice.

"I haven't heard such lovely bickering in a long while."

They turned to face Mr. Ogden and he smiled.

"Welcome home, daughter."

Julia returned the gesture and walked over to him for a bit of a hug.

"William," said the older man, nodding over her shoulder.

"Sir."

And with that they were officially on vacation.

* * *

Ruby's enthusiasm upon their arrival quickly waned and within two days of visiting, she was already back to her old ways, or rather a new boy. And since Mr. Ogden still had business things to deal with, Julia and Murdoch were mostly left up to their own devices. They had explored the city together a bit before their marriage but not that much as the weather had been fairly dismal. So Julia played tour guide and showed him around. They passed by many a shop and boarding house, a few theatres and liveries, a police station, (Murdoch saw it was number three) and a newly constructed morgue some distance away from it, practically half way across the city.

_Rather inconvenient_, thought Murdoch. _Unless of course they are planning to build another station house?_

He asked Julia about this but she was none the wiser herself.

Eventually they ended up in the park near this morgue, one that Julia professed to have a fondness to and Murdoch could well understand it. The park was very well maintained and enjoyable to be in. They picnicked under the shade of a tree and then went home for the day, quite exhausted from being on their feet for so many hours in such extreme heat. When they got back to the Ogden mansion, they discreetly took a cold bath together, one that didn't stay cold for very long.

The next day, really their last day before they would have to head back to Montreal, Julia took Murdoch to Toronto Island, her favourite spot in the city. It was yet another pleasant place to wander around in but somewhat labyrinthine where the trees grew in thick. Julia jokingly told him it was quite easy to get lost among the lagoons so it was a good thing that he had her as his guide.

Again, they had been on their feet for most of the day in the sweltering heat and needed some kind of release. But instead of travelling all the way back home, they decided to go swimming. Luckily for them it was almost dark out by this point in time and there was virtually no one left on the beach at Hanlan's Point so it was nice and private.

They began to strip but when Julia didn't stop at her undergarments, he scolded her.

"Julia, what on _earth_ are you doing?"

"I don't want to get my clothes wet," she said simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yes, but this is a public location! _Anyone_ could see you!"

"Oh," she said with a grin, "it won't be just me they'll see."

Then she jumped at him and yanked his long johns down.

"Julia, we can't!" he sputtered, quickly covering himself again and glancing around nervously.

"What's the worst that could happen, William?" she asked coyly, further removing her clothes. She was now almost completely naked and even in the dim lighting he found this distracting. Finally he came back to his senses, physically shaking his head.

"We could get arrested! That's what!"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" she said, slipping out of her bloomers and kicking them into his face.

He brushed them aside and then she laughed at his flustered expression and ran towards the water, her long auburn hair flowing out behind her.

"Julia, stop!"

"Make me!" she hollered back, entering the water with loud splashes.

"Oh for the love of..." he muttered to himself.

Scouting out the area and seeing that the coast was clear, he completely disrobed and chased after her, delighting at the feel of the cool liquid on his scorched skin. His wife was already some distance away from him so he used powerful strokes to try and catch up to her. He knew from past experience that she was a very good swimmer so he wasn't afraid of anything happening to her further out to sea.

"When I get my hands on you, Julia, you're in big trouble!" he exclaimed, half joking, half serious.

She laughed. "I'd like to see you try!" she replied, putting on a burst of speed that would make dolphins jealous.

Julia glanced back to see that he was nowhere near her and then dived below the surface in his direction. When she came up for air she was practically swimming laps around him like a shark would. She got closer and closer but always stayed just out of reach. Occasionally she would zoom in to give him a little smack on his tush.

"You're not trying very hard, William!"

"Yes, I am!" he said indignantly, lunging at her yet again and missing. "You're just too fast!"

He thought she smiled at that but it was hard to tell now as it was completely dark save for the moonlight. Julia dived under and he tried to scout out her path but couldn't. When she didn't come up for over thirty seconds he began to worry.

"Julia!"

Another ten seconds elapsed and still nothing happened so he plunged under the murky dark waters in the hopes of discovering her location. He couldn't see a blessed thing and quickly came back up for air.

"JULIA!" he bellowed.

The seconds ticked by painfully slowly and then-

"You called?" she asked quietly, right behind him, scaring the bejesus out of him.

He whirled around to face her. "Julia, you scared me half to death! What possessed you to do such a thing!"

"I was just having a little fun, William," she said laughingly. "You should try it once in awhile."

He opened his mouth and she splashed him, giggling furiously. Relieved that she was okay, he splashed her back and a vigorous water war commenced. Finally he joined in the laughter. When they were fairly exhausted from that, they headed closer to shore where they could touch land.

"Well, Mrs. Murdoch," he said, "have you finally had enough fun for one day?"

"Not quite," she replied, moving in close and wrapping herself around him like an octopus. Foreheads touching, "I had one more thing in mind."

* * *

They were laughing as they exited the water, his hand around her waist as she tried to get away from him when they heard a sound and stopped dead in their tracks. Both of them looked up and Murdoch felt the colour draining from his face instantly. A constable stood beside their clothing staring at them with an unamused expression across his face. His gaze lingered on Julia and since he was holding a lantern, she was completely exposed to him. Murdoch restrained himself from bashing his brains in. Quickly they covered themselves with their hands, and Murdoch even stood in front of his wife for good measure.

"Pleasant evening I take it," said the officer. He pointed to the ground without taking his eyes off of Murdoch. "Looks like you forgot something though."

Neither said anything.

"Well, get dressed then," he continued, "we've got a ways to go to get to the station house and I wouldn't want you two to get chilled. Especially your lovely wife."

"Please," said Julia, moving out from behind her husband, to his consternation, "is that really necessary? Can't you just let this pass? No one is even here!"

"Rules are rules, ma'am. I'm just an arbitrator of the law, it's not my place to question them."

Based on this constables attitude, he knew there wasn't much point in trying but he would anyway, for Julia's sake...and reputation.

"What about as a favour for a fellow constable?"

The mans attention whipped back to Murdoch. "Constable? You're no constable."

"Indeed I am, sir," he said with conviction. "In Montreal."

His eyes narrowed. "Well then you have even less reason to be let off the hook. You must know that it is illegal to be nude in public. Even the Frenchies aren't _that_ liberal."

The way he said that last bit made Murdoch clench his fist. The constable had clearly meant it in a derogatory manner.

"Now, please just get dressed so that we can get this show on the road. I'd like to go home to my own wife, if you don't mind."

"Can we have some privacy at least?" he asked.

The constable glanced at Julia again but then turned his back on them. Quickly they got dressed, Murdoch helping his wife with her more trickier apparatus.

"Are you finished?" said the officer abruptly.

"Not yet," replied Murdoch, even though they were.

He caught Julia's eye and communicated with her silently. She seemed to understand his intent and smiled slightly. Hand in hand, they slowly began creeping away from the constable. A little distance away the man apparently lost his patience and turned around to face them.

"Hey!" he yelled, chasing after them. "Stop right there!"

Julia laughed uncontrollably (half from nerves and the thrill) as they ran away from the man. She steered them into a little used pathway and through the underbrush. Trying their best not to trip, they supported each other and so succeeded in breaking through to the other side without any major falls. Murdoch glanced behind them to see a lantern bobbing not far away. More shouting could be heard but they ignored it.

"This way!" exclaimed Julia.

She pulled him along towards the docks and the last waiting ferry for the night.

"All aboard!" said the captain and then the crew began to pull away the connecting bridge.

"Wait!" called Murdoch.

The men looked up to see them fast approaching and halted for a moment, just long enough for them to dash aboard. The men gave them a bewildered look and Murdoch urged them to hurry. The constable yelled in the distance telling them to stop.

Murdoch said, "Please!" with such desperation that the men shrugged and continued their efforts.

"Come on, come on!" murmured Murdoch under his breath as he watched the officer get closer and closer.

The ferry pulled away from the dock just as the constable ran up to it, screaming obscenities.

Julia said, "yes!" and Murdoch released a sigh of relief and then saw the crew still watching them curiously.

"A misunderstanding," he offered weakly to their saviours.

One of the men pulled a bit of seaweed out of Julia's hair and held it up for the others to see.

"Yes," he said, grinning, "constable Duncan frequently has this _misunderstanding_ with tourists."

The men laughed uproariously and Murdoch and Julia joined in.


	24. The Appointment

School would be starting again soon and she was unduly anxious. It took several more days for her to understand the _real_ source of her disquiet. A certain something had been nagging at her for the past many months, subconsciously at first and now full fledged and poking through the surface. Knowing it would do her a world of good to discuss this issue with her husband, she attempted to many times but always chickened out. After wasting another week, she finally worked up the courage to voice her fears.

"William," she said tentatively as they quietly ate their dinner. Or rather as she played with her dinner. "There's something I've been meaning to discuss with you...for quite some time."

He glanced across the small wooden table with spoon half way to his mouth and frowned slightly at her tone. Placing the utensil back in his bowl of pea soup, he gave her his full attention.

"What is it?"

Not looking at him. "Well...it's been almost a year since we've been married..." Her voice trailed off.

She didn't continue. "I'm sorry, Julia, but you will need to give me more to go on than that." He tried to lighten the mood. "After all, I am not a mind reader as most women seem to think we men are."

"It's been almost a year..." Again she didn't continue.

"Yes," he replied in a slightly exasperated manner, "I believe we've established that."

"This isn't funny, William," she said painfully seriously.

"Forgive me, Julia," he said taking her hand. "You were saying?"

"We've been...intimate very frequently in that time and..."

A brief pause. "And you are wondering why you haven't gotten pregnant yet."

She chanced a glance at him. "Yes," she said softly, staring into his beautiful brown eyes. "Do you blame me?"

William seemed annoyed by the question. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know...I just thought..."

He squeezed her hand."There could be many reasons why it hasn't happened yet. Sometimes these things just take time. But you knew that already."

"But what if..."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. _If _we come to it."

A brief silence.

"Would you feel better if you were examined by a physician?"

She nodded.

"I suppose it's high time we find one here for you anyway."

"What about your doctor? The one who works for the morgue?"

"He's not what one would call an expert in the inner workings of the female reproductive system. I wouldn't recommend him for this. Besides, I doubt he would take a look at you even if you asked."

Another lull.

"Don't worry, we'll find you someone competent and discreet."

He leaned over to kiss her forehead and then went back to eating his now mostly cold soup.

"Thank you for being so understanding, William."

Again he seemed annoyed but responded as if he wasn't. "You are most welcome, Julia."

Another minute passed and then it was his turn to be somewhat hesitant about something.

"Julia..." he began slowly.

"Yes?"

"This might sound strange but...well...I'm surprised that you are so concerned about this issue."

"Oh?" she said, having a good idea of what he was referring to. "And why would that be?"

"Well...I wasn't under the impression that you _wanted_ to have children right now. I thought you were more concerned with your studies for the foreseeable future. I mean, it would cause havoc with them if you had to raise a child."

Julia ignored his choice of phrasing, as if he wouldn't be involved in that aspect at all.

She took a second to respond. "That is true...for now, but eventually I will want to have your child,_ our_ child. Is it so strange that I want to know that I will be able to?"

"Of course not," he replied, reaching out to grasp her hand again. He smiled. "I can't tell you how thrilled I am that you are so eager. As you know I've always wanted children of my own. But I was fully prepared to have to wait a few years for you to be ready for such a thing."

_As if I really had a choice in the matter. When had he ever used prophylactics?_

"And once I am?" He raised an eyebrow not comprehending her meaning. "Will I be allowed to continue with my studies? Or if it happens much later, continue with my work? Will you allow this?"

He smiled slightly and stroked her face. "Julia, when have I ever been able to stop you from doing what you wanted?" He smirked. "Besides, once we have a child, the extra income will be very much appreciated."

She placed her hand over his and also smirked. "I see your point, Mr. Murdoch. You are quite under my control."

His grin widened. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

William went in for a blissful kiss and she felt the world being set to rights once more.

* * *

The doctor's appointment was set for the first weekend after classes started. William had managed to get time off to go with her because she couldn't help but be rather nervous about the outcome of this appointment.

"What seems to be the problem, ah-"

"Mrs. Murdoch," she offered. The portly middle aged French man nodded. "I would like a check up."

He smiled. "Yes, of course but was there something in particular you had concerns about?"

"Well..." all of a sudden she became very embarrassed for some reason and she was furious at herself for needing William there to rescue her.

He was holding her hand while she sat on the examination table."My wife would like to know why she hasn't conceived yet."

Dr. Gaspar smiled and nodded again. "A common concern among newlyweds." He looked at them pointedly. "You _are_ newlyweds I take it?"

"We've been married for a year," replied William.

The doctors smile faltered ever so slightly and then was back in place. She noticed this slip up and her heart rate skyrocketed momentarily. "I see...shall we get started?"

William shared a look with her and she nodded.

"Excellent. Please remove your undergarments and cover yourself with this sheet." He walked a few steps over to the door. "I'll be back soon."

As she started to disrobe William asked, "Do you want me to stay in the room for the examination?"

"If you want," she said, her voice sounding strange to her ears, oddly hollowed out.

He smiled gently. "It's completely up to you, Julia. I wouldn't want to add any unnecessary stress on you."

"Yes, stay," she said more forcefully.

"All right," he said taking a seat in the corner.

She finished disrobing her lower half and then brought the sheet over her exposed parts. Her heart began pounding in her chest again and her face was beginning to flush. What was wrong with her? She was twenty-three years old, studying to be a doctor no less and yet found this whole thing to be exceedingly embarrassing. Julia supposed it had something to do with the fact that she had never had this kind of checkup before. No one besides her husband had seen those parts of her up close and personal since she became an adult (as a babe she wouldn't have cared less).

William gave her a reassuring smile and she felt slightly better. A few moments later the doctor returned, knocking first.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," she croaked out.

He walked over to her feet and sat down on the stool there. Then he cocked his head in William's direction. "Try not to get too jealous, sir."

William made a strange face and then nodded.

"Bend your knees and spread your legs, please," said Dr. Gaspar. She did, if not a little hesitantly. "Let's see what we've got here."

She stiffened slightly at first contact, beyond uncomfortable now that some strange man was feeling her most intimate area. He was silent for far too long and she couldn't take it any longer.

"How does it look, doctor?"

He brought the sheet back down and looked at her. "Everything appears to be in order, Mrs. Murdoch," he said smiling. "You are completely healthy as far as I can tell."

She shared a look with her husband and they both released their pent up breath and also smiled. Julia even laughed weakly.

"Thank you, doctor," said William coming over to shake his hand with some energy.

"Yes, thank you," she said.

"It was my pleasure."

Somewhat timidly she asked, "So why haven't I gotten pregnant then?"

He turned to face her. "It could be a variety of things. I wouldn't worry too much about it at this point in time. My best advice is to just keep at it."

Neither of them said anything.

His smile widened, "Please see Pauline about the bill when you are done here."

"Yes, of course, doctor."

"Good day then," he said nodding. "May you conceive with ease."

William raised an eyebrow at that and then the doctor was out the door. Her husband gave her a hug next and said, "Feel better?"

"Much."

"Well then, I guess we best do as he says."

"Which part?" she said grinning. "The bill or the conception?"

William laughed. "Both I suppose." His eyes shined slightly in lust. "But I think you know which one I'd rather do."

"Yes, well, not _here_, dear."

He invaded her personal space a little more, his face almost touching hers.

"Why not here? You are already half way disrobed."

"_William_," she said sternly.

He gave her a quick peck and then quickly left to avoid further temptation. At least, that's what she assumed as she dressed herself again.

She was happy that nothing appeared to be wrong with her but if that was the case, then why hadn't she gotten pregnant yet?

And she hated to admit it to herself but a rather large part of her was happy that she hadn't. William was right, if she did give birth, and even before that, wouldn't it become that much more difficult for her to finish her studies? Wasn't this precisely the reason she had run away from him in the first place? She was already struggling, (or at least had been at the end of the previous year). How much more could she really take? And if she really couldn't handle it, would she be satisfied giving up her career? Or would she come to resent him? Would their marriage fall apart in a bitter heap of regret and woe?


	25. Wash Away the Thoughts Inside

**Note: All conversations take place in French but I have graciously translated for you.**

* * *

"William, come here please," said Guillaume, sticking his head out of his office.

The constable put down a file and went over there.

"Sir?"

"How many times have I told you, William, call me Marcel."

"Of course, sir...Marcel."

"Close the door."

He did.

"Have a seat."

He did.

The inspector did the same, folding his hands in front of him on the desk. This always signified that he was in a serious mood and Murdoch was instantly on his guard.

"How have you been lately? How's your beautiful wife?"

"We're both fine, si- Marcel."

This was far from true but he didn't want to get into his wife's issues; about her miscarriages and her failing grades; about how they hadn't made love for almost three months now because she was afraid of going through that pain once more; about how she kept pushing him away, pushing _everyone _away; about how he felt like he would break down at any moment, bawling his eyes out like an infant and screaming loud enough so that God would _finally_ take notice of them.

His boss eyed him suspiciously so he said, "Why do you ask?"

"We are friends, no?"

"I would say so."

Guillaume's eyes were still boring into his and he did his best to not blink or look away. "So you know you can talk to me about anything? Anything at all?"

Murdoch didn't trust himself to speak so he simply nodded. The seconds ticked by. Guillaume sighed at his silence with a small sad smile upon his lips. Murdoch collected himself within that short time span and decided it was best to direct attention away from himself.

"Forgive me, Marcel," he said, managing his own small smile. "And your wife? How is Angelique faring?"

Murdoch knew how much he loved to talk about his wife and hoped he'd take the bait and let this matter lie. Guillaume flashed him a bright smile. "Wonderfully, thank you for asking. She is just as insatiable as ever so it is a good thing that we've had company over from France."

Murdoch was used to such statements by his boss but still didn't know how to respond to them so he didn't.

Another brief silence ensued as Guillaume scrutinized him and he was afraid the inspector would start asking him personal questions again. And knowing his reputation, they would be unnervingly accurate and blunt.

"Well, William, you've been a loyal and hardworking member of this establishment for over two years now."

This was true but he wasn't one to voice self pride so he said nothing.

"And I think it's high time I reward that dedication."

Murdoch raised an eyebrow.

Guillaume smiled. "You're being promoted to detective, effective immediately."

Murdoch raised the other eyebrow as well. "This instant, si-Marcel?"

"Why, yes, William, this instant. Yannick has retired and you're next in line."

Murdoch still said nothing.

Guillaume frowned. "I thought you would be happy to hear this news. It would be like getting back your old Sergeant position. Or is that the problem? You do not wish to have so much responsibility again? Have things been too...hectic?"

They shared a knowing look for a second.

"Forgive me once more, Marcel," he said smiling, standing up, holding out his hand. "Thank you very much for this promotion. I am quite thrilled."

Guillaume took it and then suddenly grabbed Murdoch towards him.

Whispering conspiratorially, "I know something is wrong with you, William. Why won't you let me help you?"

"Thank you again, _sir_," he said whipping his hand out of his grasp. They both gave each other a barely restrained scowl. Murdoch moved towards the exit. "Now if you'll excuse me, _sir_, I have work to attend to."

* * *

Murdoch's work day had come to an end and he was exhausted but he didn't much care to go home. Whether or not his wife was there, he would experience an almost crippling sensation of loneliness and hopelessness. He supposed it was always there nowadays but he just noticed it less while his mind was more favourably employed. So instead he went to the local police bar and got himself a pint. And then another and one more after that...

By the sixth beer he was feeling much much better and stood up to leave, swaying quite a bit in his inebriated state. Before he managed to trundle out of the bar, someone had grabbed his arm and pulled him into a side booth. Focusing his bleary, ale fogged eyes, he realized he was staring into the face of Guillaume...and promptly tried to flee.

"Oh no you don't, my friend!" he exclaimed clutching his lapels and dragging him back in.

"Let me go!" he snarled sloppily, trying to jerk away.

Some patrons were eyeing the goings on with curiosity. The pub even seemed to quiet down a bit at Murdoch's utterance.

"Not until you talk to me, William! All I want is the truth!"

"About what?!" Murdoch growled, attempting to break his bosses infuriatingly strong grip.

"You_ know_ what! I want you to finally confide in me so that you can attempt to get past this! So that_ both_ of you can! I want you to be _happy_ again!"

"I am happy!" he barked, squirming furiously. "Or _was_ until you came along!"

"Yes, I can see that!" snapped Guillaume sarcastically. "Since when do you take to drinking so heavily?! Or avoid going home after work?!"

"Leave me alone!" he roared, pulling free and scrambling out of the booth. Murdoch skittered across the floor with the full pubs attention on him and hurried out the door into the cool November evening. Feeling light headed from the sudden movement he steadied himself against the building before heading forward again at a brisk pace (or at least what he perceived to be a brisk pace in his mental fogginess).

He looked over his shoulder every now and then for several minutes to see that no one was following him. Just when he thought he was home free, Guillaume intercepted him around a corner. Murdoch tried to dodge him but found his movements to be too sluggish and once again was taken hostage by his boss, as he gripped both of his forearms.

"If you don't let me go this instant, _sir_, I will be forced to use extreme measures! I hope you remember the circumstances under which we first met!"

"How could I forget! Every time you have severe problems with your wife, you get into a brawl!" He shook him. "Do you deny it, William?! Do you deny that you need help?!"

Their gazes locked for a second and then Murdoch felt all his carefully constructed walls crumbling down and he was left completely defenceless. He broke down sobbing and would have collapsed to the ground if Guillaume had not been there supporting him.

"It's going to be all right, my friend," he said, leading him over to a nearby bench, as he patted his back. "Every thing is going to be all right."


	26. Mindful Master

**Broke the 100 review mark for the first time! Awesome! You 4 or 5 gals rock! ;D Here's hoping for 100 more! JK, I ain't writing another 25 chapters. :p**

* * *

"Mrs. Murdoch, I'd like a word before you leave if you wouldn't mind," said her anatomy professor, Dr. Rousseau.

Julia had a very good idea what this was about and pretended like she hadn't heard, continuing on her way out of the classroom.

"Mrs. Murdoch!" he repeated, waving a tiny hand for good measure.

She sighed to herself and looked over at the little man. Then she sighed again as she moved towards him, clutching her textbook and notebook tightly. Her feet felt like lead and it was such a struggle to walk the short distance to the blackboard. Somehow she succeeded.

"Mrs. Murdoch," the less than five foot man said for the third time, "please take a seat in my office. I will be with you momentarily."

Nodding, she headed past him and into the small space allotted to the professor. Everything smelled musty and ancient, as if they were from ages past, yet it all looked brand new. Apparently Dr. Rousseau was simply not a very good housekeeper, not unlike herself. The thought gave her pause and made her contemplate her own vast failings. Quickly she stopped that train wreck and focused on the heart preserved in a jar on the doctor's bookshelf. Julia had seen it a few times before but each time was like the first time. The pure beauty of the organ always left her with a genuine smile on her face. In this instance, the sensation felt strange, as if she had never moved her twelve facial muscles in that way before.

Dr. Rousseau hurried in past her and sat across from her behind his desk. Even with the height differences in their chairs, he was barely at eye level. The professor took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes and put them back on again. Then he gave her his full attention, folding his hands in front of him.

"What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Murdoch?"

Julia looked at him blankly, or at least tried to. Almost immediately she found it impossible to keep eye contact and promptly looked away, and over at the heart. She thought it might give her courage for what she knew was coming, as two of her other professors had already talked to her about this very same thing.

"Your grades have been slipping this entire term. I don't need to tell you that this is not the best way to start out your final year. If you don't perform well, I can guarantee you that you will not get into a good residency. In fact, at your current rate of decay, you won't get into _any_ as you will not pass."

She was only half paying attention now, getting lost in the majesty of the vital organ instead.

"Mrs. Murdoch!" he exclaimed. "This is no time to be smiling! This is serious!"

Julia focused on the little professor again with difficulty, plastering impassiveness across her face.

"Did you even hear what I was saying?"

She nodded again.

Dr. Rousseau sighed exasperatedly. "It's not like you to be so quiet. As long as I've known you, you've always spoken your mind. Please do so now so that I might attempt to help you. You've always been an excellent student- might I say, the brightest woman I've ever had the pleasure of teaching- and I just want to see you succeed."

Giving her a small smile, he waited for a response that never came. The professor frowned and sighed. Taking out a piece of paper, he scribbled something and then handed it to her.

"If you won't talk to me, perhaps the resident alienist can be of service." The tiny man pointed to the paper. "That's his location there." He gave her another smile. "I do hope you decide to go. I'd hate to see such talent needlessly wasted."

At that she stood up and still clutching her books tight, made her way out of there. After a few minutes she bothered to take a look at the scrap. Dr. Danglars was his name and his office was not too far from her current position. It would be easy enough to go there if she felt so inclined...but she didn't. What was some stranger going to tell her that she didn't already know? How could they-how could anyone possibly understand what she was going through? She knew it was not her fault for her three miscarriages and for dashing William's hopes repeatedly, but she also knew she_ was_ to blame for their current discord, for keeping him at arms length and for making both their lives miserable. But how could she be with him, _truly_ be with him and not risk suffering the same physical and emotional pain she had already thrice endured? Prophylactics were far from fool proof. It was easier to just remain distant. At least, that's what she kept trying to tell herself. As far as she was concerned, she was damned either way.

Julia wasn't sure how it happened but it did. Somehow she ended up in front of the very building she had been determined _not_ to go to, as if her legs had commandeered her brain and will power. Sure she could turn around now and go home, but what was the point to that if she was avoiding her husband?

Propelled forth, she glanced at the paper again and then made her way to the third floor where Danglars office resided. She knocked but no one answered. She did so again and still there was no response. Deciding it was probably for the best, she turned around to leave and found herself face to face with an attractive close cropped bearded man, about the same age as herself, which is to say mid twenties.

"He's not in," was the man's first words to her.

"Yes," she replied quietly, "I can see that."

"Are you here to apply for an internship?" She glanced away and he said, "oh," softly.

There was a brief awkwardness between them.

"Maybe_ I_ can help you," he offered. Julia gave him an appraising look and the man seemed to understand her confusion. "I am not yet fully qualified of course but I've learned a lot from Danglars these past few years and I believe I might have some words of wisdom for you. Even just talking to a third party could be beneficial...for whatever it is that is troubling you."

"I don't know..." she said eventually. "I'm not sure I should even be here."

"The fact that you _are_ speaks volumes." He cleared his throat. "However, if you want to wait till tomorrow for a proper specialist, the doctor will be in then. It's completely up to you."

Julia contemplated that for a moment. She knew she'd never come back here if she left now.

"Now," she said abruptly, "help me now."

"I'll do my very best," he said smiling. "By the way," he continued as he led her to his own much smaller office down the hall, "my name is Tristan Roberts but everyone here just calls me Dr. Roberts."

She was quite surprised to hear that. Either he was older than he looked or he was a genius. After her two hour long session with him, she learned that she was partially right. He _was_ a genius but he was also quite mad. But in a good way. Dr. Roberts had been a miracle worker. It was almost as if he could read her very thoughts and was quite adept at getting to the heart of the matter, even when she tried her best to evade certain difficult topics.

For the first time in a long time, Julia felt like things were going to be all right.


	27. Love is a Tricky Thing

After a few more sessions with Dr. Roberts, Julia knew it was high time to finally reach out to her husband and somehow amend the broken bridge between them. She made a point of being home early, hours before he was finished work for the day so that she could make his favourite meal for dinner, roast beef (and mashed potatoes). It was a somewhat expensive dish considering their current budget but if ever there was a time for such extravagance, this was it. Julia was satisfied with the way it turned out, her previous attempts had not been quite so promising. For a moment she was happy in the knowledge that at least she was capable of the occasional wifely endeavour and wasn't a complete failure in that regard.

Checking the time every few minutes was a pointless occupation but she couldn't seem to employ herself in a better way. Now that what she presumed would be a monumental blowup was imminent, it was hard to focus on anything but the detonation and the resulting fallout. All she could hope for was a speedy recovery after being pulled from the wreckage...assuming William even felt so inclined to help her. She had to believe he would. After all, he was a decent man, the most decent man she had ever had the honour of knowing. He would never leave an injured survivor to fend for themselves in a desolate wasteland, not even if they were his mortal enemy.

It was now past dinner time and she wondered if he would even be coming home tonight. Not that he had ever done this before, though he had come very close a few times when he could not control his frustration with her and stormed out of their apartment to get some air. Julia had no way of knowing if he had thought her oblivious to his feelings for the past many months. Certainly she had rarely responded to his desperate pleas but that was simply her defence mechanism kicking in, an old childish tactic of hers that she had never been able to obliterate. It had almost been impossible to ignore him when he got like that. His words had felt like scalpel blades prodding every part of her, just looking for the slightest give in her flesh so that they could dig in and rip her apart. The strength required to withstand him had been so draining that she had been constantly exhausted and on the verge of tears. So she had eventually retreated to a safe place within herself, and there she had remained for an eternity. But Dr. Roberts had made her see the error of her ways and though it had been very painful, with many slips and falls, she had clawed her way out of the abyss and back to her former self. At least she hoped that was the case, she really didn't feel any different than she used to.

Just when she began to chicken out, she heard the lock click and her husband came through the door. Julia had been sitting in direct eyesight to their entrance, in one of her nicest casual outfits, with a glass of red wine in hand, waiting for him. Now that he was here, she couldn't stop her hand from shaking slightly and she put down the alcohol on the table beside her. A second later he caught sight of her and their eyes locked. Such intense stares once culminated in bouts of love making, now however, she could distinguish not even a twinge of heat behind his looks. William seemed vaguely intrigued by such a rare occurrence but shrugged it off, as he literally shrugged off his suit jacket. If Julia hadn't been so worried about what was to come, she might have realized the strangeness of such a thing and wondered why he wasn't wearing his usual uniform. As it was, the significance of this simple act was lost on her troubled mind.

William slowly took off his shoes and hat, arranged everything neatly by the door and then strode past her without another glance. However, when he went by the kitchen he did a double take and cocked his head in her direction. Again he shrugged off his curiosity and continued into the lavatory. While she waited for him to be finished, she chugged the rest of her wine and then began perspiring enough that her hands became slick with sweat a few times, and she absentmindedly rubbed them off on her voluminous skirts.

Before long William came back into the room, sat down across from her (without once looking at her) and opened up the evening edition of the paper. He held it up in such a way that she could not see his face in the slightest. For a second she wondered if he was even reading the material or simply using the activity as an excuse to be near her without having to interact with her.

She cleared her throat and felt her heart rate explode. He ignored her.

"William," she managed with a bit of a waver. It came out embarrassingly pitiful.

With the exception of him turning a page, there was no response.

"William," she tried again with more conviction, the nerves still tinging the edges.

Again there was no response.

Her annoyance at being ignored was trumping her terror and she said quite forcefully, in a tone she had not used in a long time, "_William._"

Half of the paper flopped over forwards, revealing his impassive expression. Her husband looked at her blankly and said nothing. Apparently he was intent on making her do all the heavy lifting, and it was definitely his prerogative. Immediately her mind went blank and she couldn't think of a single thing that she wanted to say, that she had planned out dozens of times over the past few hours.

When the silence stretched on he propped the paper back up with a bit of a snap and commenced reading. After what seemed an eon, her thoughts came rushing back to her all at once, like blood from a numb limb. It was fairly overwhelming and she put her hand to her head briefly. Eventually everything settled in its correct place and she felt much better.

"William, we need to talk. I need to tell you- could you possibly put that infernal paper down!" she snapped.

Some rustling ensued and moments later it was folded up nice and neat. That same maddening impassiveness ruled his features and it was all she could do not to scream at him then. What was wrong with her? Why was she so angry all of a sudden? Then she thought she knew. He was acting like she had been for the longest time. No wonder such a calm person had lost his patience so frequently.

"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am, William," she said as normally as she could manage but still incapable of looking straight at him. "I should never have ignored you the way that I did. That was inexcusable, childish behaviour. I should have talked things through with you...after the last time it happened." Her voice broke at the last and she found she couldn't continue right away. Thankfully she didn't have to because William had decided to pick up the slack, though his words were far from comforting.

"That is the understatement of the century, Julia." His voice was cold, far colder than she could ever recall his voice sounding when directed at her, or anyone for that matter. It was almost inhuman to her ears, like how she imagined a reptile would sound if capable of speech.

She chanced a look at him and was met with an unnatural cold fury in his gaze. His posture was absolutely rigid indicating that every muscle in his body was tense, perilously so, as if he were a snake about to pounce on his prey. Julia gulped and evaporated the mental image, preparing herself for anything.

"What you put me through was beyond cruel. I never thought you capable of such evil."

All she could do was nod and fight back the tears. Biting her lip seemed to help a very little. When he didn't continue she found the ability to form words again.

"I know," she said shakily. "I behaved deplorably. We were both hurting but I couldn't seem to think about anyone but me. It was _my_ body after all. I foolishly thought it would be easier if I kept my distance."

"Easier!" he exclaimed, standing up abruptly, fists clenched. "Easier, for whom?!"

"Oh William," she blurted out, also rising to her feet, "can you ever forgive me?"

"I don't know," he said sternly. "How does one go about forgiving such monstrosities?"

Julia had no clue how it happened but she decided to inject some humour into the tense situation.

"With a stomach full of roast beef?"

Her husband glared at her and said sarcastically, "Why, yes, Julia, _that_ is the solution. A bit of meat will solve _all_ our problems. Glad to see that your mind is still as sharp as the day we wed."

It was her turn to glare. "You don't need to insult my intelligence."

"Maybe not but I find myself immensely enjoying the sport!" he spat out acidly.

Julia did her best not to retort in kind but couldn't help herself. "By all means, dear husband, if it gives you so much _pleasure _to abuse me, keep at it! I wouldn't want to deprive you of such fun!"

"I don't need your permission woman!" he shouted, grabbing her upper arms. "I can do whatever the devil I want!"

"Well, what are you waiting for, William?!" she shrieked. "Go ahead and strike me! Or are you not _man_ enough for that!"

A strangled cry escaped his throat as he raised an open palm high above his head. Part of her tortured mind knew this is _not_ what Dr. Roberts meant by conflict resolution but she was past caring what her husband did to her. Frankly she was convinced she deserved whatever he dished out.

Suddenly his fury seemed to be replaced by horror and he quickly lowered his hand and released his violent grip on her.

"Leave me be," he commanded darkly, "before I do something we'll both regret."

"I'm not afraid of you!" she yelled, heart hammering rapidly. "Do your worst and be done with it!"

He made a frustrated sound and punched the couch behind him. "Infuriating woman! Just do as you're told!"

"No! I don't take orders from anyone! Least of all you!"

"Yes, that's right! I forgot that you never took your vows seriously! Then again I shouldn't be surprised! You don't believe in _anything_!"

"That's not true!"

"Oh _really_, Julia?!" he said incredulously. "Care to enlighten me? What _fantastical_ thing do you have faith in? Unicorns perhaps?"

"Us, you dolt! I believe in us!"

Momentarily he was stunned. "I find that hard to believe! All you've ever had were doubts!"

She flinched at his accurate assessment.

"Well, not anymore I don't! I want to make this work!" Lowering her voice half an octave, "I want you to love me again."

He started laughing in a frenzied way, as if he'd lost his mind.

"William?" she prodded tentatively.

"Love you?" he choked out. "Julia, I never stopped loving you! That was the problem!"

Their eyes locked for the second time that evening but this time the effect was quite the reverse. William grabbed her towards him and almost savagely attacked her lips. At first she was taken by surprise but then she wholeheartedly engaged herself in the exploit, running her fingers through his hair like she hadn't done in ages. It was all so exquisitely wonderful, she almost couldn't stand it. Before long they were both breathing heavily and he pulled her down onto the couch, their lips never fully leaving each others for one second.

When things progressed to a critical point he asked, "Do you want me to stop?"

She shook her head. "I refuse to have my love life dictated by something that _might_ happen again. I refuse to live in despair or be apart from you any longer. Whatever happens, we'll get through it...together."

"Can I get that in writing?" he queried jokingly but with a serious expression.

"Maybe later, William," she said laughing softly. "Right now you have a rather pressing issue to attend to."

"Oh yes, Mrs. Murdoch," he mumbled into her collar bone, "that I do, very pressing indeed."


	28. When One Thing Ends, Another Begins

The last few months had been terrible for The Murdochs, full of crippling pain and anguish, but now that they had gotten through the worst of it, found their relationship to be strengthened more than either could have ever fathomed. Were once they had been like bronze, strong but still pliable, they were now like tempered steel and only the harshest of elements could ever break them. With both fully supporting each other again, Julia was able to turn her life around and salvage her almost shattered career (and friendships) and Murdoch was able to excel at his new demanding position at the precinct. Guillaume gave him a much longer leash than Major Jackson ever had when it came to his scientific approaches, and because of this, Murdoch was enjoying every minute of it. That is, until the papers began to take note of him.

By March of the new year (1889) Murdoch had turned into a bit of a celebrity. This was something he did not care for. Constantly having reporters hounding him for a quote (or even worse, wanting him to explain his techniques and then getting all the details wrong in print) was rather irritating and though Guillaume understood his dilemma, did not do anything about it. So much good, free publicity was doing wonders for their funding. They could now afford to have new equipment and spare constable uniforms made up (which was quite helpful considering they were in constant need of repairs) and their pensions had even gotten slightly larger.

All of this annoyance he could live with now that he and Julia were seeing eye to eye again. Even the occasional young woman stalking him did not bother him the way it used to when he was a Sergeant. As long as they kept their distance (and hands off of him) he didn't give a rats ass. When his wife inevitably found out about his admirers, she simply laughed and teased him mercilessly.

* * *

Finals for Julia's last term of med-school were fast approaching and since her grades had taken several major hits over the past year, there was a lot riding on these, even more so than for all of her other female colleagues. Unsurprisingly she was an absolute nervous mess. Though Murdoch was tired the evening before the first exam, he stayed up with her, helping her cram until she finally drifted off to sleep on the couch.

When she awoke the next morning she shrieked, startling him instantly into alertness. Somehow their alarm clock had not worked! Out of all days!

"There's no_ way_ I'll make it on time!" she exclaimed, as he hurriedly helped her into her corset.

"Yes, you will," he replied calmly, tying the knot with fumbling fingers.

She whirled around to face him with an incredulous expression. "But-"

He put a finger to her lips. "Dress, now."

Within three more minutes they were both out the door, Murdoch looking far from the prim and proper man he usually did and Julia not looking much better. He propelled her forth on their bikes with words of encouragement, not giving her a chance to catch her breath, even when she begged him for a break.

"There's no time, Julia!" he wheezed, himself winded. Murdoch considered himself to be in pretty good shape but even he was exhausted. He knew she must be suffering terribly but there was nothing for it. "Come on! It's just a little farther!"

They zoomed passed startled students on the campus pathways and came to a screeching halt outside of the building her first exam was to take place in. They were both doubled over and he took the slight reprieve to glance at his pocket watch.

_Less than thirty seconds!_

"Breaks over!" he gasped, grabbing her hand and dragging her up the many stairs.

His muscles screamed in protest but he simply grit his teeth and kept sprinting. Julia stumbled near the top but he kept her upright and continued to launch them forward at a rapid clip. She had previously told him the room number so he did not need to ask now, which was fortunate since he could no longer form coherent words.

With less than five seconds to go they reached the classroom and burst through the door, fifteen females whipping their heads in their direction, the professor stopping mid sentence, mouth hanging open. Murdoch was pretty sure he had been about to officially start the test so he flung his wife into her seat (the only unoccupied one), gave her a peck on the cheek and stumbled out of the room. Everything was up to her now, he had done all he could. He just hoped she would be able to focus clearly in the ensuing minutes. Every second was precious, especially when one point could be the difference between a pass and a fail. But he had faith in her and knew she would rise to the occasion.

* * *

That evening when he came home from work, he found her huddled in a corner, with stacks of paper and textbooks piled up all around her, madly revising for her next series of tests, muttering to herself every few seconds. She didn't look much more sane than she had this morning. Knowing she would snap at him if he broke her intense concentration, he went about shedding his outside layers without a word to her. When she was ready, she would acknowledge his existence...and most likely demand that he test her on all manner of obscure and ridiculous things. He braced himself for another long night.

* * *

After a jam packed week of testing, exams (and practicals) had finally come to an end. It was hard to say which one of them was more exhausted. Certainly they were both happy that she was finished but Julia was still a bundle of nerves, anxiously awaiting her fate. The results would not be in for at least another week and he did his best to take her mind off of it, both in the bedroom and out. He took time off of work so that they could go on picnics and long bike rides, swim in the local lake even though it was freezing (it was still April), and just generally keep busy.

* * *

On the day the results were to be released, he planned on taking her out for a fancy dinner to celebrate, so he was counting on good news. When he saw her later that afternoon, he felt a knot growing in his stomach. She did not look very happy.

"Oh William," she cried, falling into his arms.

"It's all right, Julia," he said reassuringly, rubbing her back. "There's always next year. You can just try again."

She pulled away just enough so that she could look into his eyes. "What are you talking about?" she asked quizzically. "Try _what _again?"

Slightly exasperated, "Your studies of course."

Comprehension dawned. "I passed all of my courses, William. I actually did better than I was expecting, especially on that first exam."

Murdoch was confused. "Then why-"

Julia sighed. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh," was all he could think to say.

An awkward silence ensued.

"Well, we shall just have to see what we see and hope for the best."

Her words not his.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Julia," he replied, squeezing her hands, relieved that some of the tension had ebbed.

"Now," she said, linking arms, "I know you planned something special for tonight. So what tricks do you have up your sleeve?"

"A gentleman never kisses and tells," he answered, grinning.

"Have it your way, Mr. Murdoch, but be prepared to pay dearly for withholding information."

His grin got wider. "I count on it."


	29. Murdoch vs Hormones

Julia's graduation took place on July 18th, 1889 and already she had begun to show. However, her baby bump had not been detectable through her fairly baggy black robes so that if a recent acquaintance took a look at the black and white photo in their home, they would be none the wiser. Previously the miscarriages had all taken place within two months of pregnancy so they had never before gotten to this stage of their unborn childrens development. Needless to say, The Murdoch's couldn't have been happier. They were understandably wary but for the most part believed whole heartedly that this time around would be different and the baby would survive to full term. Just like the last times, Murdoch prayed everyday that he (or she) would.

By the time Julia began her residency at one of the nicer, bilingual teaching hospitals, her belly had doubled in size (which is to say it was about the size of a cantaloup). A lot of her patients, both men and women alike were very flabbergasted that a pregnant woman was tending to them! It was quite beyond the pale! Secretly she found their reactions to be very amusing but outwardly kept a professional demeanour at all times as she learned the ropes. A couple of people (men mostly) had refused to be treated by her, claiming that her mind would be far too feeble in her current state (though they probably thought such things about all women and half of her didn't blame them because sometimes she felt incredibly dumb and made stupid mistakes).

Their rejection she could deal with. It was a product of her age and she was used to it by now. Besides, there was nothing she could do about it (for the time being anyway). What she had more problems dealing with was being harassed by her superior who deemed her inferior and treated her more like a nurse (or worse, a secretary) than a doctor. It was like being back at The California School of Medicine all over again. No matter what she did, or said, or how well she performed, he only had thinly veiled contempt for her. The only thing that had made her time there tolerable had been William. Once more she relied on him to calm her down when she got into one of her rages about her boss. These rages were all the more terrifying because of her pregnancy hormones. If it hadn't been for her husband, she would most certainly have killed the bastard by now.

During one such rage fuelled rant, Murdoch timidly made a suggestion to her.

"Uh, dear, I hate to interrupt your uh...elegant speech, but uh-"

"What is it?!" she snapped.

"Well, you don't seem very happy with *Dr. Francis-"

"You think?!"

He gulped but then continued. "Maybe you should transfer to a different teaching hospital?"

For a second she was stock still in her stance, with an odd expression, like her face had been squished. It would have been comical to someone viewing from the outside. Murdoch was not laughing.

"I should _what_?!" she erupted a moment later. She marched/shuffled over to Murdoch sitting on the couch, (who was feeling as insubstantial as a feather) and loomed over him with her hands on her hips (or what Murdoch had come to know as her no nonsense pose). "I have _never_ run away from anything in my life! I don't intend to start now!"

This of course was not true. She had run away from him, more than once. But he wasn't about to point that out, not if he wanted to keep his head attached to his shoulders. However, he _was_ getting tired of virtually the same complaints being made, day in and day out and could do with a change, as he was sure she could too.

"You don't have to prove anything to me," he said, pushing forward on shaky ground. "I have always thought of you as the most accomplished, most courageous," he paused for a second, "most _stubborn_ woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Sometimes there's just no getting through to people. Sometimes it is better to cut ones loses and start anew."

Abruptly she began to sob hysterically, collapsing into his arms. Murdoch was used to such an occurrence from all of her pregnancies and 'moon' times.

"Oh William! How can you say that?! I am a complete mess!" She wiped some snot from her nose with the back of her hand. "Just look at me!"

"I _am _looking at you," he said, their faces only inches apart. He smiled. "And you're absolutely beautiful, Julia, glowing in fact." He put his hand to the bulge of her stomach. "How could you not be? You're the mother of my child."

"Oh William!" she exclaimed again, burying her face into the crook of his neck...and continued her sobbing campaign. He was about to say something when she started laughing maniacally.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

She lifted her face back in order to look at him. "You're right!" she said in between giggles. "I'm tired of dealing with such an archaic, pig headed, old fart!" The last word sent her cackling anew. "I shall find a new place to learn!" All of a sudden she became very serious, an evil glint in her eyes. "And if the next supervisor causes me any grief," she punched a hand into her palm, "he will be very sorry, very sorry indeed."

Her creepy smile was unnerving him and his instinct was to back away but he couldn't because she was sitting on him.

"Uh, yes, Julia," he responded warily. "That sounds like a good plan. Going someplace else!" he added quickly after the fact.

"What was that?" she asked, as if coming out of a trance.

"Oh, nothing, Julia, nothing at all."

* * *

Two weeks after she had quit working at the hospital (and while she continued her search for a new place to study), his wife was attempting to get dressed but finding the task rather difficult. She asked him to help her but even he couldn't get her into her clothing.

"I'm so fat!" she complained for about the thousandth time, staring at herself in the full length mirror, holding her watermelon sized belly. Julia glanced at Murdoch standing behind her through the mirror (he had been busy staring at her ample bosom but then snapped to attention). No matter what he said here she was going to have issues with it. Better not to say anything at all.

She was dangerous looking. "Should I take your silence as confirmation of this fact?"

"Well..."

Whirling around to face him, "So you agree that I am a big fat cow! Is that it!"

"No of course not!" he said waving his hands, feeling cornered. "I-"

Apparently she wasn't even listening to him at all. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised! All you men are the same!" Julia sat on the edge of their bed and started crying, head in hands. Then she picked up the dress she had been planning on wearing for the day and threw it across the room. "All these maternity clothes are hideous! I just want to wear something pretty again! Is that too much to ask?"

"You _will_ be able to soon," he said sitting down beside her, taking her hand. He gave her a reassuring smile. "In just two short months-"

"_Short_!?" she erupted, pulling her hand away so that she could flail both of them around. "I don't call that a short length of time at all! It's more like an eternity!"

"Julia, please," he said trying not to frown at her behaviour. "This is just the way things are. You can't rush the miracle of birth."

"Easy for you to say!" she exploded, moving away from him, throwing her hands up into the air. "You don't have to be so damn fat! Or have to relieve yourself every five minutes! Or have an aching back! Or-" she jabbed a thumb at her strewn clothes, "wear such ugly blue dresses!"

Rather than deny any of this he said, "Blue's not really my colour but I could give it a shot if you would like."

His wife blinked at him a few times. Next she burst out laughing. She walked back over to him and ruffled his ungreased hair. "Sometimes you are incredibly silly, husband." She grinned evilly. "But yes, I accept your offer."

"You- you what?" he enquired thunderstruck."You really want me to...try on your dress?" The last word came out barely audible.

_I would rather get a shot!  
_

Julia eyed him for a long minute and then shrieked with merriment. After she wiped the tears away she said, "You should have seen your face, William! It was priceless!"

He released a sigh of relief and chuckled a little himself. "Very good, Julia. You got me quite well."

Murdoch pulled her into his lap, the bed groaning under the added strain. Julia made a face at the sound but didn't say anything, she was too intent on the man before her.

"I will call in Madam Boudoir and we'll get this issue sorted out."

He was referring to having her clothing re-sized once again. They could not afford to be buying new dresses every time Julia got a little bit bigger. So she had decided to use her ugliest dresses to be destroyed for this purpose. At least she had not attempted to wear a maternity corset. That would have been an even bigger problem to deal with. Luckily Julia being a doctor and far more sensible than the typical woman, knew the risks of wearing such a thing while pregnant and had decided against it. As a result she often appeared that much larger than another woman at the same stage of pregnancy.

She grinned mischievously. "Are you sure about the dress? I'm sure the Madam could put something together for you. She's very discreet." Tiptoeing her fingers up his chest. "It would be our little secret."

"Yes, I'm sure, Julia," he replied. "If anyone's going to be wearing the others clothing, it should be you. I think you are absolutely stunning in my shirt...and nothing else."

His wife moved away from him and he was afraid he had said something wrong but then she disrobed out of her undergarments, strode over to their dresser, pulled out one of his clean shirts and partially buttoned it up, her belly poking out too much for the rest to be done up.

Splaying her hands to the side, "You mean like this?"

He was so enraptured that all he could do was nod enthusiastically a few times.

"Men are so strange," she muttered, laughing internally.

She went back over to him and sat in his lap sideways, with her arms around his neck. He lowered his head and kissed her belly and then continued upwards until he reached the narrowing of his shirt. Murdoch undid the lowest one and planted another kiss on the newly exposed flesh. He continued this manoeuvre for the remaining buttons and then travelled up her neck and found her waiting lips. They kissed deeply for several minutes and he was really getting into it when she started laughing and pulled away.

He gave her a questioning look and she said, "The babies tickling me." She took his hand and placed it on the exact spot the kicks could be felt. Murdoch's face lit up like it had the previous times he had experienced this wondrous phenomenon.

"Why don't you say something to our child?"

"Julia, I highly doubt the baby can hear us, let alone understand us."

She made a tutting sound. "Could you not be so logical for one second and just do this for me?"

"All right." Putting his face close to Julia's belly he said, "Hello there son." His wife cleared her throat. "Or daughter. This is your father speaking. I just wanted to say-" he glanced up at Julia- "what did I want to say?"

She made an exasperated sound. "Can't you think of _something_? Where's your imagination?"

He put his face back to her stomach. "I just wanted to say, I look very forward to meeting you...and I can't wait to show you all the world has to offer. And I love you."

Murdoch raised his head back up to Julia's eye level. "There that wasn't so hard, now was it?"

"No, I suppose not." He smiled. "Now where were we?"

They began to make out again and again Julia laughed.

"Now what?" he asked, starting to get annoyed.

"I'm terribly sorry, William, but I desperately have to urinate!"

_C'est la vie,_ he thought grumpily as he watched her waddle to the water closet.

* * *

***Not the character from the show but has a similar personality to him**


	30. Oh the Weather Outside is Frightful

It was nearing Christmas time and the birth of their first child. It should have been a happy time for Julia but it wasn't, at least, not completely. She had been unable to acquire a new position at any of the other teaching schools in Montreal. They were either all full or wouldn't accept women, or more specifically, women who were so close to giving birth. Needless to say she was going stir crazy being cooped up in their little apartment with nothing to do all day. She tried to go for walks and spend the day outdoors but there were two problems with this. One, the icy ground was pretty treacherous and her balance was iffy at best these days. And two, her feet and back could not withstand extended periods of standing. This unfortunate situation was made all the more untenable because her raging hormones never gave her a minutes peace. Every day Murdoch came home from work, he was smothered with attention to the point of suffocation.

At first she had entertained friends she had made in medical school when they had a few hours to themselves but then found these reunions to be unbearable. Try as they might, they would invariably end up on the hospital topic and every time this happened, she found it near impossible not to lose control of herself. So those visits had quickly come to an end and it had been almost a month now that she had been growing increasingly insane.

In any case, The Murdoch's were getting ready to travel to Toronto for the holidays, as they had done every year since they first got married. Murdoch had cautioned against such a thing because there was no telling when the baby would come. Julia was deaf to his warnings. This was basically the only time she ever got to see her family anymore. Her father was always burying himself in work to avoid having to think about the lose of his wife, and her sister was always gallivanting about, to God knows where, expertly draining her fathers bank account. So regardless of the risk, they would go.

The night before they were to head out, Julia, (or rather someone they had hired) put on a nice dinner party for The Guillaumes. For the most part the evening had been pleasant, Julia laughing uproariously every time Murdoch was uncomfortable with something erotic one of their guests had said, but there was a slight snag when Julia thought the chicken tasted off and vehemently blamed the cook. Once they had calmed her down, Murdoch reminded her that she frequently thought things tasted funny. Most certainly it had something to do with her pregnancy and her damn hormones. She was at the point where she literally couldn't stand being pregnant for much longer.

* * *

On the train ride to her birth place, and as they were sitting in their booth, silently contemplating the unceasingly constant wintry landscape, (or more likely other things) Julia felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. This in and of itself was not unusual but the intensity _was_. Normally it was just a bit of discomfort, as if she was cramping during her menstrual cycle.

She bit her lip and placed a hand to the lower half of her swelling stomach. There was no movement and nothing else happened for several minutes, giving her plenty of time to recover from that bolt of electricity. However about ten minutes later the same thing happened, this time even more violently and she did her best to stifle the scream but was not wholly successful. A slight gasp escaped her lips, drawing William's attention to her. Her face must have been contorted in agony for he jumped up and went to her side.

"Is it time?" he asked, face and voice very serious and anxious. He took her hand and she squeezed it, making his face mirror her own.

It would be almost two weeks early if that was the case. Not terribly early but not ideal either, especially given their current surroundings.

"I don't know," she finally managed as the pain subsided to a manageable level. She released his crumpled hand but his expression changed little.

William looked at the seat and the ground around her.

"What are you-"

She clued in and discreetly felt her crotch. "It hasn't happened yet."

They shared a relieved look. While at least one member of the staff should be trained in the art of childbirth, that would hardly be optimal circumstances for them or the baby. Julia was regretting her decision to travel in her condition when William took her hand again and stared into her eyes.

"Whatever you need, I'm right here."

"Thank you, Willi-ahhh!" she shrieked, rending his fingers to shreds. He screamed a little too and several passengers cocked their heads in their direction. An attendant came over to their booth.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, eyeing Julia's stomach and their faces with unease. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought he looked familiar but couldn't place him as the pain still coursed through her abdomen.

She nodded with teeth grit together.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you quite sure?"

"We're fine!" she snapped and the man promptly left, zooming away as if scalded.

William was cradling his mangled digits and she felt badly so decided to sit on her hands from then on out to avoid further mutilating her husband and soon to be father.

"What's happening?" he enquired a minute later.

"I'm not sure exactly. I've experienced what are known as Braxton Hicks contractions but this is quite different from that. This is what I'd expect would accompany the beginning of the birthing process," -she frowned -"except that they aren't happening at regular intervals, and,"- she glanced down at her crotch-, "my water hasn't broken yet."

William also frowned. "Should we be worried?"

If the baby had turned slightly and wasn't facing head down anymore, it might account for her current problems. Or maybe she simply had severe gas pains? It was so difficult to tell one thing from another when her body was in overdrive.

"I don't think so," she replied, trying to hide the uncertainty from her voice. "It's probably just my body acting up again, like it has been for the past eight and a half months."

"And if it isn't?"

She contemplated that for a second and then shared a look with him. "Then I suggest you go find someone who knows a thing or two about delivering babies. Otherwise I'm afraid you might get that honour."

William blinked at her once and then hurried off after the attendant who had previously left. Within five minutes they had tracked down a female staff member who claimed to have been trained in that regard. Even though they didn't immediately need the woman, it was nice to know she was around all the same. About an hour later Julia was pretty sure they wouldn't need her at all. Whatever had caused her pain (and panic) attacks seemed to have evaporated into thin air. There had been a few others within a few minutes of each other and then nothing.

Somewhat exhausted from just that small taste of things to come, she fell asleep in William's arms as the train hurtled into growing darkness.

* * *

Around seven that evening they arrived in Toronto. As soon as he stepped out of the car he wanted to turn straight around. The city was experiencing a nasty blizzard, something comparable to a few winters ago in Montreal. Perhaps it had been heading towards there?

In any case, they were not really dressed for this drastic change in weather and Murdoch quickly searched in their suitcases for warmer coats and gloves while his wife began to freeze in her dress. Finding the clothing in question, he bundled her up nice and warm and then did the same for himself. They debated simply finding the nearest hotel and settling in for the night but decided against it. There was no need spending money on something that wasn't wholly necessary. Besides, Julia didn't want her father and sister to worry about their absence. The chances that the phone lines were still working were not very high.

They strode through a foot of snow towards the streets and waiting carriages, getting smacked in the face repeatedly by strong winds and accompanying snow projectiles and almost fell over several times. By the time they got there and piled all their luggage up top, (covering it with a tarp after the fact to prevent potential damages) their feet and faces were cold and numb.

Murdoch helped his wife into the carriage with difficulty (the step was quite slippery and her added weight continuously threatened to throw her off balance). Finally they were both within, teeth chattering, and with a thin layer of wet snow gracing their features. They huddled together as the carriage slowly picked up speed. Even so, he estimated that they were not moving faster than six miles an hour. At this rate it would take over half an hour to get to the Ogden's rural abode on the outskirts of town. Murdoch was not looking forward to this prospect as it was only marginally warmer inside than out, largely due to the fact that the howling wind could not find them there, try as it might. He supposed it could be worse, he could be their driver. He had no idea how the man could even see where they were headed, it was almost pitch black out now because the power had apparently failed, the streetlamps were out and the clouds were covering any semblance of moonlight. Other than a small lantern at their feet, there was no light source whatsoever.

About twenty five minutes later they abruptly stopped. They couldn't have been more than a kilometre or so from Julia's homestead so he wasn't too concerned about this. However, when they didn't start up again for over a minute, he stuck his head out to investigate. He couldn't see a blasted thing through the darkness and furiously blowing snow, so he jumped out into what must have been three feet of the stuff, closed the door just above this line and headed to the front of the carriage. Murdoch was half afraid the man and horse would no longer be there.

Rounding the corner he looked out at the completely white horse (it had been brown originally) and then shielding his eyes, glanced up at the driver.

"What seems to be the trouble?" he bellowed over the now deafening winds. Being out in the country side, there was no buffer for this elemental force.

The older man glowered down at him, at least, that's what Murdoch thought he was doing, it was hard to tell and said, "Oh I don't know, might be the goddamn snow! Jenny's having a hell of a time trying to get through it all! Damn near exhausted!"

Ignoring his rude manner he asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

The man grinned. "Sure, I've got a spare harness around here somewhere." Murdoch was not amused. He was cold and hungry...and without a doubt so was this man. He got over his annoyance quickly.

The driver might have grunted and then said, "I'll try to get her moving again in a few minutes. Lord knows I can't stand much more of this blasted weather."

Murdoch nodded and went back to his wife. A chilling cry broke through all the other noise and nearly froze his heart. He rushed over to the door, yanked it open and flung himself inside. Julia's face was contorted in agony again and even knowing the pain it would cause, took her hand, face furrowed in worry. His gloves did little to alleviate the death grip and he could not stop himself from wincing. He knew the pain was receding from his wife as her stranglehold lessened.

"Julia, this can't be normal," he said afterwards, as he placed his free hand to her stomach.

"I _would_ agree with you, William," she replied, voice a bit shaky, "except that it _is_." She stared into his eyes, "My water just broke. The babies coming. _Now_."

_Oh for the love of..._


	31. Going Nowhere Fast

"Oh my," he eventually squeaked out. He became very agitated, flailing his arms about in near panic. "Oh my goodness!" Then he stupidly began stating the obvious. "This is not good! Not good at all! You're in labour! And the babies coming! And there's a lot of snow! And we're trapped here! In the middle of nowhere!" Pointing a finger at her stomach almost accusingly. "And the babies coming!" he finished lamely, repeating himself.

Under any other circumstances she would have been amused by his reaction but as it was, she was not laughing.

"Yes, hardly ideal," she replied after the remnants of the contraction subsided. "What did the driver have to say about our current situation?"

William looked at her confusedly. "Your pregnancy is no concern of his! Frankly I'm surprised you think I would discuss such matters with him!"

Julia fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I was referring to us not moving."

"Oh," he said quietly. "Apparently the horse is too tired to keep going." She was silent for a moment as she processed that. "But I'm sure we'll be up and running in no time!" William said this rather desperately, not at all confidently and she took his hand then and stroked his face in her gloved hands.

"Everything's going to be just fine," she said, trying to reassure him. "I believe that, William, and so should you."

He let out a bit of frigid breath. Just the few times he had opened the door had drained their small cabin of the little remaining warmth.

"Thank you for saying that Julia, I needed to hear that."

The irony of _her_ comforting _him_ in her dire straits was not lost on her but now was not the time to contemplate such things for very long.

Another contraction raged through her entire frame, shooting up her arching back, like bolts of electricity, nearly paralysing her with shock. As she rode out the electric storm, she dug her fingers into the folds of the carriage seat, sure she was tearing the leather with her inhuman strength and not giving a damn. All she could focus on was the all consuming agony and nothing more. What she wouldn't give for some opiates, some lovely, lovely cocaine.

When this happened William seemed to fully come to his senses again and said, "That was less than five minutes since the last one and lasted for quite awhile. It's almost time isn't it?"

She nodded with eyes still closed. "Yes, I believe so but you could check to see how far my cervix has dilated."

"Uh, I suppose I could, Julia but do you really want to start disrobing in this temperature?"

Julia snorted. "I think it's a little late to be worried about such things, William. This baby is quite intent on coming out soon." She smirked. "The little scoundrel."

He frowned and said sternly. "Julia, that is our child you are speaking about."

"I realize that, William. But can you deny that he is being a trouble maker?"

"No, I guess not." His face lit up suddenly. "You said he! We're having a boy?!"

He was about to hug her when she said, "It was a slip of the tongue. How should I know what the gender of our child is going to be? It's not like they have some equipment that can look inside of people without opening them up first!" She laughed. "Can you imagine such a thing? It would harness some heretofore unknown source of energy," she paused for a second, "or simpler yet, some kind of echolocation and-" He looked at her like she was crazy, like her pregnancy had finally turned her brain to mush. "Well, I thought it was a reasonable idea," she muttered, abashed by his scientific mind squelching her far flung ideas without so much as a word.

Abruptly he grabbed her shoulders but did not shake her. "Julia, this is no time for such fanciful ideas! There are more important things to be considering!"

"Excuse me for trying to pass the time a little!" she snapped, hotly. Gesturing widely, "It's not like there is much else for us to do!"

His face became apologetic. "You're right of course. Forgive me."

She flicked her hand. "Never mind."

The next contraction brought her to the verge of screaming again and she gripped his arm tight.

After it too had passed he said, "This is ridiculous! What the devil is that driver _doing_?"

He was about to exit the carriage again when they started moving.

"Looks like your complaint was a bit premature," she said, grinning at him. "Just like something else." Then she chuckled a bit. He just looked at her blankly. "The baby. I was referring to the baby."

He forced a smile. "Yes, Julia, very funny."

She sighed and they sat in silence for a minute, the only sound was the roaring of the wind and beneath that, the just barely discernible creaking of the carriage on it's springs. Suddenly they stopped moving.

"Oh for heavens sake!" he exclaimed, pushing on the door but finding it very stuck. It was no wonder. The snow had piled up so high that it had half covered the door! "Confounded thing! Open! I command you!"

"I don't think it can hear you, William," she said, no longer trying to joke with him but simply stating the obvious.

He grumbled in response and slouched back into his seat. A moment later there was a loud knock that startled both of them out of their gloomy moods. The driver was half buried in snow, with his icy face pressed up against the glass so they could hear his next words.

"Jenny ain't gonna be able to pull this thing any further. But I'm gonna take her and head to the nearest house to get help."

They shared a terrified look. At the current rate of snowfall they would be buried alive within the hour!

The man turned to leave.

"Wait!" William sputtered. "You can't do that! My wife is in labour!"

"Look, mister," he said somewhat aggravated, "I'm sorry but this is the only way! It's too much effort for Jenny...and I can't stay out here much longer! My goddamn hands are barely workin'!"

"But-"

"Don't worry, I'll come back for you. You have my word as a gentleman." He smirked. "Besides, you haven't paid me yet." His grin widened. "And I'll be expecting a big tip."

Murdoch placed his own face and hands against the glass to watch the mans progress through the semi-tunnel he had made back to the horse. Of course, he couldn't really see very much since it was still pitch black out and the thick swirling snow did little to alleviate this blindness and his cheek was beginning to freeze to the ice cold surface, so he pulled away and stared at Julia.

She screamed out and blindly grabbed at him.

"William! I think it's _really_ time now!"

"But there's no one else here! How-" His face took on a comical appearance. "Oh no no no!" he said loudly, waving his arms around wildly. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can!"

"No, Julia, I can't! I don't have a clue what to do!"

Julia highly doubted this was the case. He was a learned man in many areas and would almost assuredly have read up on these matters after she had become pregnant the first time, assuming he didn't already know everything there was to know.

"I'll explain everything to you! It's not that difficult! I'll still be doing most of the work!"

"But-"

She yanked him by the lapels so that he was face to face with her, their cold breath co-mingling for several seconds. "You can do this, William. I have faith in you."

He nodded once and said, "Tell me what to do."

"All right. Well first of all, we need some clean sheets or towels. Even a shirt or two would do. Do you think you can find some?"

William glanced outside for a second. Thanks to their driver, the door was now clear enough for him to get out there.

"Yes," he said in a determined manner that made her glad. "What else?"

"Scissors or a knife to cut the umbilical cord."

"Anything else?"

She knew she didn't have any with her but said the following anyway.

"Drugs, lots of drugs."

He raised an eyebrow. "Julia-"

"I'm kidding, William." After a slight pause, "Sort of."

Her husband put his shoulder to the door and shoved his way out into the tempestuous weather. A fair amount of snow and cold accompanied this action and she shivered for several moments afterwards, even though her skin was practically on fire and she was beginning to sweat. Focusing on her breathing and staying calm and clear headed was very taxing on her faculties but she somehow managed this with aplomb even though all the terrible scenarios continuously tried to break through her defences and make her crumble.

What seemed like an eternity later and after another massive contraction threatened to rip her apart, her knight in shining armour returned. He was literally dressed in white and if the sun had been shining, she had no doubt so would he. William carefully placed a combination of shirts and one towel on the seat as he simultaneously yanked the door closed.

"I'm afraid some of our things blew away or otherwise got lost in my haste. I think some of it was your jewelry."

She nodded absentmindedly, not really paying attention to what he was saying. Instead she started to disrobe her lower half, almost immediately feeling the chill travelling up her thighs and doing her best not to shiver from such a thing. Then she swivelled herself around so that she was lengthwise on the cushion, though her back was pressed up against the wall. It was a bit awkward in the confined space of the vehicle to spread her legs wide but it was definitely better than being outside. William placed a few shirts around her exposed parts without her saying a word and then put the towel by her ankles.

"How dilated am I?" she asked.

He picked up the dim lantern and held it aloft to get a better look at her nether region.

"It's hard to say," he said after awhile. "Must be at least ten centimetres."

"Okay then. I'm going to start pushing now." She smiled. "Wish me luck."

He shuffled over from his kneeling spot on the floor in order to kiss her. Then back in place by her feet, he took her hand and said, "Good luck."

Julia took a deep breath and then pushed with all her might.


	32. We are Family

Thankfully or thanklessly, depending on your perspective, the intense labour was over and done with within two hours and there had been no complications. If either had been able to focus on anything other than that, they would have realized that they were nearly buried beneath snow by the time their baby was born and that their driver had still not returned with help. Murdoch only had eyes for their child, a boy after all, and even though he was covered in a variety of gross things, he was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen (with the exception of his wife possibly on their wedding day). With infinite wariness, he had cut through the placenta with a knife, careful that his hands didn't slip after they had been covered in the aforementioned gross things.

Since all towels and shirts were now unusable, Murdoch attempted to take off his own jacket to wrap their child in. However, Julia stopped him for several reasons. The first of which was that he would freeze without it. Secondly, his coat was way to big to properly bundle up their son in without smothering him. And thirdly, it would be better he had body heat directly from one of them. She explained this all to him in an exhausted, semi-delirious state and he felt quite dumb.

So after a few more looks at their now clean, screaming, still warm child, he handed him over to Julia who opened up her coat and placed him against her breast and then closed it up again, but still in a way that he would easily be able to breath. This worked well at first until Murdoch realized that all of his wife's sweat and still exposed regions were now working over time to chill her to the bone. He did his best to mop up the dampness, kissed her forehead and then got her back into her underthings with difficulty. Her dress was not doing much to conserve heat so again he took off his jacket and placed it over her lower half. She feebly protested this action but did not have enough strength to stop him.

What Julia had forewarned did not come to pass, at least not nearly as quickly as he would have expected. Though he only had his regular suit jacket on, it seemed to block out the cold well enough. Needless to say, Murdoch was puzzled by this but didn't dwell on it for very long. He was just happy that he wasn't slowly freezing to death.

Now that things had quieted down a bit, (not literally of course, their son's somewhat muffled wails were quite piercing and rivalled that of the force outside; though in the back of his mind, he realized that even _here_ there was something amiss because it didn't seem as loud as it once was) Murdoch became vividly aware of their current predicament.

_Where the devil is that driver?_

He tried to peer through the window but could not.

_Oh no! Oh please God no! Not now!_

If they were completely buried then it was next to impossible that the man would ever find them! Before he completely lost his head he made several connections at once: the layers of snow explained why the wind wasn't as loud as he recalled and also why he was not freezing. They were now insulated against the elements, sort of like a bizarre metal igloo.

Murdoch glanced back at his family and became beside himself with worry to the extent that he forgot about his claustrophobia completely. Julia was in no condition to be caring about such things so the full force of this distress came bearing down on him and him alone. He almost stupidly tried to open the door, which would have further ensured their funerals.

_We're doomed!_

A small voice in the back of his mind told him to snap out of it. Gradually it got louder and louder until it drowned out all negative thought. Composing himself again he critically analyzed their options. It didn't take long. There really was only thing they _could_ do. They had to stay put and trust that someone would come for them, anything else was suicide. But he didn't know how much longer he could hold out hope.

At least they were not in pitch blackness. Their little lantern was still dimly illuminating the interior. He became conscious of the fact that their son was no longer screaming and instead suckling at his wife's breast. Murdoch could not actually bear witness to this because of all the fabric in the way but he could definitely hear it.

"How much longer till we get to my fathers?" Julia mumbled, eyes mostly closed.

He didn't know what she thought was happening right now. Maybe she was half asleep and dreaming that they were moving?

Reaching out he took her hand and squeezed it. "Not much longer, dear. We'll be there soon."

"That's good," she murmured. "Father will be so delighted to know he has a grandson."

Her grip lessened and he freaked out for a moment but then heard the dulcet sounds of her snoring, if dulcet meant ear shattering. The noise frightened him at first and he placed his hands over his ears. It had been a very long time since he had heard it. If they hadn't already been buried, he was sure the shock waves from it would have caused an avalanche far more effectively than their newborn son could have. Miraculously, their baby was so intent on feeding that it didn't seem disturbed at all by this terrible racket as evidenced by the continuing suckling sounds, that came through in waves every time the snoring momentarily ceased.

The minutes went by and he would have paced if he could have but the ceiling was too low for that so instead he contented himself with stealing glances at his son. It was difficult mind you because he didn't want to disturb either of them, both seemed to be sleeping now. Though how the boy _could_ with Julia's noise vibrating directly _to_ him, Murdoch had no clue.

At some future point he awoke abruptly, propped up on the floor against the seat. Apparently he had fallen asleep accidentally, even through his wife's ruckus, which would have been a first for him. Once he moved around a bit, he realized that he was fairly numb and cold and that their temporary igloo was not a perfect insulator. As well, the air seemed to be thinner than it once was. Clearly both of these undesirable things had been the major source of his drowsiness. Even so, for a moment he was furious with himself, knowing their rescue team could have come and gone without his knowledge.

Though it was painful, he forced himself to move all his limbs about, trying to get circulation going again. Eventually he was successful and then he checked on his family. Touching her forehead, he was relieved to note that _she_ at least was still quite warm, as was their son. They were sound asleep and peaceful and it brought a smile to his lips, the first in a long while.

An unknown length of time passed (in all the excitement he had forgotten to wind his pocket watch) and the sound of the howling wind completely died out so that Julia's snoring became even louder in their small enclosed space. Did this mean that the blizzard was finally over? There was no way to tell but he started to hope again.

More time went by and then he heard the most wonderful thing. It was people shouting. He was almost certain that they were here for them. Their voices sounded distant.

"Over here!" he yelled with all his might, pounding on the roof, startling both baby and mother awake. Their son started to bawl again. "We're in here!"

"William, what on earth?" she asked, groggily. "Why are-" Her eyes got very wide. "Why haven't we moved? Oh no! Are we buried?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "But I think our rescue team is finally here!" Pounding on the roof again he yelled, "Help! Please help us!"

Julia began shrieking her head off too, further scaring the baby and the combined noise from all three of them was magnificent...and exactly what was needed to grab the attention of those searching for them.

"Hello?" came a muffled male voice from not too far away.

"Here!" Murdoch returned. "Right here!"

Below the babies wails, he could hear snow crunching almost directly above them. Several pairs of feet and at least one horse were present.

"You're on top of us now!" he shouted.

"All right!" returned the same voice, moving the horse off. "Just hold tight! We'll have you out of there in no time at all!"

The sounds of shovels going to work emanated through the carriage frame. He shared a relieved look with Julia. It didn't take long before the diggers were scraping metal. The ugly sound set his teeth on edge but luckily it too didn't last long.

"How long have we been down here for?" she asked as she continued coaxing the baby into silence. "It seems a bit difficulty to breath."

"I'm not sure," he answered. "Quite awhile I suspect."

She looked at him closely then. "Please take your jacket back."

"Why?"

In an exasperated manner, "William, you are clearly freezing."

"I'm fine," he lied.

Julia became aggravated. "We just had our first child together and the last thing we need is for you to go dying on him!"

He was weary and annoyed. "Excuse me for trying to keep my family alive!"

The babies anguish began anew and it jarred them back to their senses.

"I'm sorry," he muttered quickly afterwards.

"No, I'm sorry, William," she said taking his hand and squeezing it. "It was very chivalrous of you and we both greatly appreciate your sacrifice."

He nodded and took his somewhat disgusting jacket back. The warmth it instantly provided brought back a little of his strength. They sat in silence for a bit, just listening to the sound of the workers. Murdoch judged there to be four people in total.

"So what are we going to name him?" she said, breaking the monotony as they waited to be rescued.

Previously they had decided on Helene and Annabelle if it was a girl and David and Yannick if it was a boy. David had been the name of his grandfather on his mothers side. He had always been very kind to him as a boy. But there was something about the other French name that he found most intriguing, even though it was quite common and in fact the detective before him had had that name. He couldn't quite put his finger on why he liked it so much.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "I haven't really gotten to spend much time with him. Not sure which one suits him the best."

"Well, we can decide a little later then, once we get out of this nightmare."

She smiled at him and suddenly he surprised himself and said, "David, let's name him David."

Julia chuckled a little. "May I ask what prompted that change in gears?"

He shrugged. "I can't explain it exactly. I just knew that was the right one."

Smiling more. "You've just made your grandfather very happy today, William. He would be so proud."

Murdoch returned the gesture and sat down beside her for the first time since their carriage got permanently stuck. From this vantage point it was much easier to see their son, or at least would have been if it wasn't still mostly dark. The pink blob was pressed tight to her bosom.

"This was a job well done, doctor."

"Why thank, detective," she smirked, "but I can't take all the credit."

He leaned in for a kiss and then there was the sound of someone clearing their throat. A man, their long absent driver to be precise, had has face pressed against the top part of the glass again and was staring at them with laughing eyes. Unlike the last time he was not half buried in snow but rather lying down on it. He seemed in much better spirits than before, they all were. From the little Murdoch could see of the outside world, it was still dark out but the storm had completely abated.

"Sorry to interrupt but we're almost done freeing you lot and I don't suppose you want a bunch of peeping toms, now do you?"

They both smiled at him and shook their heads.

He grinned and then stood up. "Back to it men!"

They watched with growing elation as the pile got smaller and smaller in front of their door. Their driver tugged and tugged at the door but couldn't get it to budge. Finally Murdoch told him to step back and he shoved it open, this extra force must have been needed because of ice formations that had made the hinges rather sticky. He stepped out first and inhaled the fresh air deeply, then stretched his back a bit. In some ways he felt like a bear coming out of his hibernation early. Certainly he was hungry enough to devour anything put in front of him.

He turned around and offered his hand to Julia and she gratefully accepted it, too weary to really hold up her own weight fully. Several men, (if men was the right word for them, they were all quite young from the looks of them) helped them out of the hole they were in and on to more solid ground, if the ample amounts of snow could be construed as such. The Murdoch's thanked everyone profusely and this seemed to embarrass the young men to no end.

There was another carriage waiting to take them the rest of the way.

"How far is it to the Ogden residence?" he asked to no one in particular.

One of the men answered, "Another mile or so down the road."

They were both too tired to walk the rest of the way and besides, it was too cold for their son to be partially exposed for very long. She shared a look with him and they both sighed and headed into the damn thing.


	33. Just Another Day in the Life of

"David come here!" called his wife to their three year old son.

As usual the toddler had run ahead as they strolled through the park and as usual the boy did not listen. He was currently investigating something that Murdoch couldn't make out from his present vantage point.

"Come along then, dear," he said. "Let's see what he's gotten himself into this time."

They shared a slight smile and then advanced rapidly on their son. He had his arm way up in a hole in a tree with a determined expression across his face.

"What are you doing, David?" asked Julia.

"Looking for clues!" he exclaimed excitedly.

This was his favourite pastime. It was no wonder, Murdoch was always talking about cases with Julia at the dinner table. Of course, they kept it kid friendly for the most part, using code words such as accident for murder, deep sleep for death and interfered for rape.

"And what clues would those be?" said Murdoch.

"I don't know daddy! That's why I'm investimagating! Like you!"

They waited patiently for some time and then Murdoch checked his pocket watch and realized it was later than he had thought. He had to be at work in ten minutes!

"All right then, David," he said, "it's time to take your arm out of there. I want to say goodbye to you before I head into work."

Julia looked at him and frowned. "Really? Already?"

"I'm afraid so, Julia."

The boy had still not listened.

"Listen to your father, David."

"Oh all right," uttered the boy sadly but in a kind of fake way.

The next second the kid shrieked his head off. Alarmed, they both fell to their knees and asked him what was the matter.

"My arm!" he wailed. "It's stuck!"

They shared a worried look and then Murdoch tried to pry him loose. He would not budge. The harder he tried to dislodge him, the more he seemed to get stuck. Julia continued to freak out with their son but Murdoch took a few calming breaths and assessed their options. There weren't many. Finally something occurred to him. He prayed he was right.

"Please be quiet for a moment," he said loudly to both of them.

They did so and looked at him expectantly, David was snivelling quietly.

"David, are you by any chance holding on to something?" The boy looked at him quizzically and evasively. "Did you find something and are refusing to let go of it?"

He glanced away quickly. "Maybe," he said quietly. "I wanted to surprise you."

Julia let out a breath of relief. "Whatever it is, David, just let go of it. It's the only way to get you out of there."

"Fine," he grumbled and then easily retrieved his arm from the tree.

He immediately crossed them against his chest and sulked. "It's no fair."

"David, I want you to give me a hug," said Murdoch, still at eye level with his son.

"_David_," said Julia sternly.

The child flung his arms around his father's neck for the briefest of seconds. Before he could get away, Murdoch had grabbed him and lifted him up. He refused to look at him.

"David, I'm going to tell you a secret."

The boy appeared curious and gave him his attention.

Whispering, Murdoch said, "I love you."

His son made a face. "That isn't a secret, daddy."

"It isn't?" Murdoch said in mock surprise. "I must be slipping in my old age then. I used to be very good at keeping them."

Julia cleared her throat. "Don't you have somewhere to be, William?"

"Ah, yes!" he said hastily, handing David over to her and kissing her on the cheek. "Stay out of trouble you two!" he called as he began running towards station house four.

Ever since their son had been born in Toronto and they had seen first hand the joy he had brought to Julia's father, they had decided to stay there. Of course they had gone back for all of their things and to say goodbye to their friends but for the majority of the past three years, they had been living in this sprawling city.

Murdoch had found it particularly difficult to part ways with Guillaume. The man had helped him through several rough patches and had always supported him in everything he had done. He had come to think of him as the older brother he had never had. This parting was made all the more difficult because the inspector had informed him that he and his wife would be travelling back to Paris where her family resided and would be staying there for the foreseeable future. So even if Murdoch had wanted to visit him, he no longer could. Guillaume had kept things light and had even promised to come back one day, assuming there happened to be an international police conference that he had to attend. Murdoch was pretty sure it had been meant as a joke and that he would see him again some day regardless.

As for Julia, surprisingly she had found it easier to get herself into a teaching hospital here than in Montreal. Maybe this was because she was no longer visibly pregnant or maybe her father had had something to do with it. In any case, she had recently finished her residency and was now looking for a placement, anywhere. So far, she was hitting a bunch of dead ends. No one wanted to hire a fledgling doctor who also had a family to look after. Of course, they both knew that if she had been a man, there would have been no issues whatsoever. She would have been hired immediately with credentials like hers. For whatever reason, Julia had not seemed very upset by this constant rejection. Perhaps their son had something to do with this? Maybe deep down she didn't really want to go to work and just take the more traditional route in life? He had not had the courage to actually ask her.

Murdoch halted just outside of the station, wiped the sweat off his brow and straightened his vest before heading on in.

"Nice of you to show up!" barked a surly ginger haired English man as soon as he poked his head in.

Inspector Brackenreid was standing in the centre of a circle of constables, holding up a poster with a man's face on it. Clearly he had been in the middle of giving a debriefing about the next dangerous criminal or fugitive they had to deal with.

A new recruit by the name of George Crabtree gave him a welcoming smile. The lad had on several occasions tried to insert himself in his investigations, not unlike his own son. In some ways he was just as childlike as him too, going on and on about many fantastical things and being oblivious to certain manners, such as knocking before entering his office.

"Terribly sorry, sir," he said. "There was a bit of a problem in the par-"

"I don't want to hear your bloody excuses, Murdoch! Just get the hell over here!"

Murdoch hastened to comply. The inspector began again in his boisterous manner and after several minutes they were fully debriefed on a man named Buster Bowden who had recently escaped from the asylum in Etobicoke. Bowden was considered armed and dangerous and completely unstable. According to head management, he had delusions of grandeur and thought he was the chosen one to eradicate the world of violence...by killing anyone who did something bad. Apparently he had faked being physically sick and then when they had thought he was properly sedated, they had left him unattended and he had jumped out of the second floor window.

Murdoch sighed internally. _So it's going to be one of those days, eh?_

The only good thing about these sorts of cases was that Julia found them most fascinating and they would spend what little free time they had discussing and dissecting them to pieces. She had even joked about changing professions before she had even started her current one.

Once the debriefing was over, and Brackenreid had sent some men out to search for Bowden, George immediately accosted him.

"Where do you think he's hiding, sir?"

"I don't know, George." _If I knew that, we wouldn't have to be searching for him._

"My money's on the entertainment district!" he said enthusiastically. "Lots of low lives there!" He made a face and turned his hand slightly. "Well, some of them anyway. My Aunt Amaryllis still works as a barkeep. She's a tough old broad...Sir! Do you think she's in danger?!" He grabbed his hat. "I should head down there right away to make sure she's all right!"

"Forget that nonsense, Crabtree!" came the commanding voice of the inspector from nearby. "Unless your bloody aunt is in the habit of hurting people, she's perfectly safe! Besides, that madman isn't likely to go there. The report also mentioned he doesn't like loud noises."

Until they had something more to go on, he couldn't be of much help, so he tried to slink away into his office in order to fiddle with his microscope. He wanted to increase the power of the lenses so that it would be more useful for comparing strands of hair and other things like fabrics.

"Oh no you don't Murdoch!" boomed his boss. "I know how much you love to play with your toys but this is important police business! I want you to go to the asylum and see if you can spot something the constables there missed." He smirked. "Oh and take Crabtree with you."

George seemed positively giddy at the prospect. Murdoch remained impassive.

_Is this punishment for being late?_

"As you wish, sir."

Murdoch hadn't made up his mind about the inspector. He was much more antagonistic than Guillaume had ever been, and often reminded him of Major Jackson from back in his NWMP days. This was all the more the case when the inspector attempted to shoot down whatever scientific method he didn't fully understand. When this happened, it was all Murdoch could do not to lose his temper with the man, like he had on countless occasions with the Major. However, he was a good man and a loving husband and he also had children about the same age as his son. Occasionally they would get together so that the kids could play. This was more their wives ideas than their own. Likely this was also an attempt to try and get the men to bond over this common interest. Lord knew they didn't have much else besides work, and as already stated, even there they were frequently at odds.

"Bring me my evidence kit, George."

The young constable practically ran to Murdoch's office and retrieved it in seconds, bringing it back to him like a dog.

"Thank you, George."

"You are most welcome, sir! Should I bring the carriage around?"

Murdoch shook his head once. "I feel up for a bicycle ride."

"I love to bike! This will be so much fun!"

_I wouldn't count on it._


	34. For Whom The Bell Tolls

**I'm gonna try to finish this saga off at chapter 36, so get ready for it to be over.**

* * *

The constabulary was working round the clock to find Bowden and get him under control before he started killing again. As such, Julia had not seen hid nor hair of her husband for almost thirty six hours. While David was asleep and under the watchful eye of their nanny, she went to the station house to see him. She was expecting chaos but instead got a bunch of half asleep constables dozing at their desks, a certain detective included.

Walking up behind him, she ruffled the back of his hair and said, "I'm glad to see you hard at work, detective."

"Very funny, Mrs. Murdoch," he grumbled, rising up in his seat. "What brings you here at this hour?"

"I missed you," she replied, hunching over awkwardly to place her chin on his shoulder, while simultaneously wrapping her arms around his neck and upper torso.

He brought a hand up to touch her face and then tilted his head to the side to give her a brief kiss. She giggled a little during it and he frowned as he turned his whole body to face her properly.

Without him saying anything she clued him in. "I'm not used to your stubble." His expression relaxed and she grabbed one of his cheeks and continued, "Normally you're as smooth as David's backside."

William made another face. "What a charming notion, Julia."

Julia smiled but said nothing. Then she frowned at his half glazed over eyes. "If you're so exhausted why not come home?" She gestured to their surroundings with a broad sweep of her arm. "Clearly little headway is being made. Besides, the inspector is not even here!"

"I don't know..."

She caught a whiff of his musky manly odour and all of a sudden she _really_ wanted him home. And it wasn't because she was scared about the slash happy mental patient on the loose.

"David is sound asleep," she said, leaning into him and squeezing his upper thighs.

William's eyes widened. He stood up abruptly and grabbed his hat. "Let's go."

_That was too easy_, she thought, smiling in a self satisfied sort of way at her powers of seduction, even after all these years.

* * *

Only a minute or so after they had satiated their carnal needs, there was a knock at the front door. They would have just ignored it but it quickly became very insistent and they didn't want their son to be awoken. And since they had sent their nanny home two hours ago, it was up to one of them to see to this. William was about to get up but she stopped him with a hand to his bare sweaty chest, gently lowering him back into their bed.

"I'll handle this," she said, slipping into a robe and slippers. "You just rest." She smirked and winked at him, "I'm sure you must be positively exhausted after what we just did."

He looked at her wearily and a little worriedly. But he knew better than to tell her to get properly dressed or to be careful just answering a door, even if it was after ten o'clock and a murderous madman was on the loose.

Opening the front door, she was pleasantly surprised when she came face to face with a familiar constable. George was about to say something, then his jaw dropped as he took in her attire and tousled hair, and came to the correct conclusion...for once.

Looking off to the side as his face flushed he said, "Terribly sorry to...interrupt, Mrs. Murdoch, but there's been a break in the case!" He hazarded a glance at her and she tried her best not to laugh at how uncomfortable the young man was. "I'm afraid I'll be needing your husband straight away...assuming you are done with him."

"He's all yours." She turned sideways and gestured down the hallway. "Do come in, constable. It might be a few minutes before he is ready to go."

The constable looked passed her cautiously, like he was expecting to see some other unsavoury and forbidden sights. Finally he took off his helmet, needlessly smoothed out his very short hair and entered their home for the first time. Julia informed William about their visitor and then went over to the kitchen to make some strong tea. Her husband would surely be needing a vacuum flask to go. It was such a simple idea to have a container capable of keeping liquids hot and yet it had only been invented the previous year. There were a lot of things around the house that could use improvement but she didn't have the know how and her husband was always too busy with work...or _claimed_ to be anyway. On more than one occasion she had caught him fiddling with his microscope and other rudimentary detecting tools. At least he had had the good grace to _pretend_ to be abashed (she didn't think he actually was or he wouldn't keep on with his tinkerings). Julia supposed she could live with this as long as he spent that free time with their son instead. The boy looked up to him so much, that it would be beyond selfish of her if that ever changed for her convenience.

While the water was in the arduous process of boiling, (something else that could be improved upon) she watched as George investigated their things, touching everything like a child would, apparently fascinated by commonplace household objects. Or perhaps he was simply avoiding looking at her?

She was in a gay mood despite the fact that he had somewhat interrupted them so she decided to tease him. Silently, she walked over to his side. "Have you never seen a rocking chair before, constable?"

He jumped at her first utterance. "Oh my!" he exclaimed clutching his chest. "You startled me!"

"Forgive me, George." He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

"No, of course not, Mrs. Murdoch."

"Please, call me Julia," she said smiling warmly at him. He gulped and then caught sight of her partially exposed chest (in so far as her robe did not go all the way up to her neck), and hastily looked away as he turned a deep shade of red.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am but I'd rather not."

"Suit yourself, George," she said contentedly plopping herself onto the sofa and twirling a strand of her luscious auburn hair. He was staring at her funnily. "Would you like some succulent breast?"

"What?!" he yelped as if he had been scalded. And indeed his face gave that indication.

She raised an eyebrow in mock surprise and just about burst out laughing. Keeping her calm demeanour she said, "Chicken breast, George. Would you like some?"

"No, thank you, Mrs. Murdoch!" he said waving his hands around frantically. "I'm perfectly fine. No breast for me please!"

"What's going on here?" asked her husband as he entered their living room, fully clothed, as if they hadn't just been exploring each others bodies for the thousandth time since their marriage. She very much wanted to go over to him right then and there and rip his clothes off again and really give George something to be mortified about. Instead she settled for reminiscing about things that had recently happened in the bedroom. Regardless if her husband was tired, he was always a very...enthusiastic and thorough lover.

"Nothing, sir!" pipped George. "Nothing at all!" His eyes darted back and forth between them in a terrified manner. "I didn't do _anything_!"

William glanced at her and she smiled pleasantly to which he gave her an exasperated look.

"What news have you, George?"

The constable seemed extremely pleased that the topic had shifted to something less...informal.

"Bowden's ex-fiance, Miss Teilhard, phoned the station while you were...busy and told us that she had spotted him lurking around the run down barn on her fathers property."

William frowned. "I thought we had checked there already?"

"We had, sir but he apparently only recently made his way there. Needless to say, Miss Teilhard was uncomfortable with having him so close by."

"And, have we apprehended him?"

"Not yet, sir." George looked upset. "Before we arrived he had taken Mr. Teilhard and his daughter hostage and tied them up. He also got his hands on an old shotgun and threatened to shoot them if we got too close." Her husband's brow furrowed deeper, as did hers. She was no longer in a grand old mood and became just as serious as the two men before her. "Perkins tried to sneak up on Bowden without backup and almost got himself and Mr. Teilhard killed. The inspector just about bit his head off for disobeying orders."

"That is most unfortunate, George, but what do_ I _have to do with any of this? Surely there are others better equipped to deal with this type of situation?"

George seemed uncomfortable again. "Well, sir, Bowden has asked to speak with you."

Both of them were understandably surprised by this development. "Me, George? What on earth for?"

The constable's face was grim. "I don't know, sir, he wouldn't say."

She stood up and put an arm around her husbands waist. "And the inspector agrees that William should go speak to this madman? By himself?"

"Bowden promised not to shoot-"

Julia threw her head back and laughed without mirth. "That's rich! A deranged lunatic promises-"

"Julia, please," said William. He turned his attention back on George. "I'll do it."

"What?!" shrieked Julia, moving away from him, eyes wide in disbelief. "What do you mean, you'll do it?! Are you _insane_, William?! This is surely some ploy-"

"_Julia_." She glared at him. "Calm down. If you don't lower your voice you will wake David up."

"Oh forgive me for being a little upset!" she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. "My husband has lost his mind and-"

"Julia!" he exclaimed slapping his hand into the tea table, instantly silencing her. "Please wait outside for a moment, George, I need a private word with my wife."

"Sir," he said nodding slightly and leaving their house.

Julia had crossed her arms against her chest, in a very similar manner to their auburn haired three year old. William tried to catch her eye but she wouldn't let him.

He sighed and said, "I realize these are far from ideal circumstances-"

"That's the understatement of the year," she grumbled.

"...but if I can help put Bowden away again where he can't hurt anyone else, I have an obligation to do so."

"Yes, but in the process _you_ will likely get hurt." _Or worse._

Gently he said, "That is the nature of the job, Julia. You've known that for a long time."

Her eyes narrowed. "There's something fishy about this whole thing. Bowden is not acting as I would have imagined."

"I agree but what choice do I have?"

"You could _not_ go, that's what! Let the other constables handle this!"

"They've already tried and weren't successful."

She glanced at him. "And what if-"

He put a finger to her lips. "I'll be fine. I promise."

_You can't promise such a thing._

Julia hugged him tightly and said, "Come back to us in one piece."

William nodded once, gave her a slow kiss and then left her standing there, dreading what was to come. The kettle started to screech, bringing her out of her gloomy mind set.

_I forgot to give him his tea,_ she thought stupidly, as if that would save his life.


	35. The End is Nigh

Murdoch approached the scene of commotion with extreme trepidation. As George stopped the carriage some distance away from the barn, Murdoch was swiftly accosted by Brackenreid.

"Took your sweet time getting here! Where the bloody hell did you run off to anyway?" Murdoch said nothing and the inspector scoffed. All three of them moved towards a dimly illuminated rusty tractor on its side. Judging by the many dings in it and punctured wheel, they (and the two other constables present) had been using it for cover. They squatted down behind it. "Since you're_ finally_ here, I take it that you've agreed to this dingbat's demand? Like a goddamned idiot?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you okay this whole thing?"

Brackenreid scowled. "Only because I had no choice! I can't risk their lives by trying to catch him unawares now that that moron Perkins screwed the pooch!"

Murdoch didn't see the constable in question and assumed he must have been taken to the hospital. The thought made him gulp involuntarily and he started a silent prayer. However, a few seconds later he noticed him farther away, slumped against a tree, looking utterly dejected...and unharmed.

_Strange._

Brackenreid saw where he was looking and said, "Bowden shot above his head and he ran away like a coward."

_Stranger._

The inspector focused his gaze on the detective. "Tell me then Murdoch, what exactly _is_ your plan here?"

"To go into the barn and talk to him."

Brackenreid waited for him to continue and when he didn't he exclaimed, "Absolutely brilliant, Murdoch! Why didn't I think of that?!"

"What else can we do, sir? You've said it yourself, we are out of options."

"Look," he said deadly serious, placing his hands on his shoulders and forcing him to look at him, "I don't like this one bit so we have a contingency plan in place."

"And what would that be, sir?"

Brackenreid told him.

_I suppose that's better than nothing._

"Whenever you're ready, Murdoch."

He nodded, stood up and stepped out in front of the tractor, arms up in the arm. After he walked a few paces, a wild looking, scraggly haired man appeared in the upper loft opening. Bowden pointed his gun at him and told him to halt.

"That's far enough copper!"

"I am detective William Murdoch," he said loudly and surprisingly calmly. "You asked for me."

"You better not be armed!"

"I assure you that I am not."

Bowden sized him up for a moment and lowered his weapon. "All right, you can come in but if you try any funny business, any at all...they're dead!"

Murdoch felt like he was walking on egg shells the rest of the distance to the barn and even more so when he headed up the stairs to where the madman and hostages were. At the top of the stairs Bowden pointed his gun at Mr. Teilhard, and he squirmed and made muted panicked noises against the gag in his mouth. Other than being a bit dirty, they seemed to be unharmed. Murdoch wanted to keep it that way so he stopped in his tracks. A few seconds later Bowden propped the shotgun on its end and leaned against it, gesturing to a dusty wooden chair in the corner.

"Take a seat, detective."

He did and after glancing at the terrified hostages again, he gave Bowden his full attention.

"You're probably wondering why you are here."

Murdoch nodded.

"I've read about you dectective. In the paper. You seem to have an open and fair mind. And you bring a lot of criminals to justice. Do you enjoy that?"

"I admit that I do like that particular part of the job."

"Good. Then you'll appreciate me helping you do so again."

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

The man smirked at him but his eyes remained unamused, like they were dead and had seen unmentionable horrors.

"How much of my story do you know?"

_ Where was he going with this?_

Murdoch thought back to his conversation with the head honcho at the asylum. "You killed a prominent businessman in cold blood because you believed him to be corrupt...and a danger to the community. Ever since then you've made it your life's mission to weed out the bad seeds."

Bowden smiled even more widely. "Very concise...and wrong."

Murdoch frowned at that comment. "What do you mean?" he asked again, warily.

"That is a question better directed towards my darling fiance's father." Bowden knelt down beside him and said, "I'm going to remove this now, my _friend_, and when I do, I expect you to behave yourself. That means no screaming and no...lying. If you do either of these things, I can't guarantee your safety. Do you understand me?"

He nodded once, looking completely terrified and then he untied his gag. Mr. Teilhard moved his jaw around a bit to loosen up the stiff facial muscles.

"Well then," prodded Bowden with the butt of his shotgun, "go on. Tell the nice detective the truth about...everything."

Despite the tenseness of the situation, Murdoch's interest was definitely peaked and he waited impatiently for him to begin speaking.

"Don't listen to him, detective! Put him down before-"

Bowden hit him in the stomach with the end of his shotgun and the man surely would have crumpled over if he hadn't been tied to the chair. His daughter made some more muffled wailing noises. Murdoch knew better than to try and rush the armed man so he remained seated...with difficulty.

"I didn't want to do that, sir, but you left me no choice. Now tell Detective Murdoch the truth before I do something you'll really regret." He pointed the gun at Miss Teilhard's head and the mans eyes widened.

"You wouldn't dare hurt her," Teilhard wheezed.

"Are you sure about that, sir?" he said devoid of passion. "You have no idea what they did to me in there." The way he said that made Murdoch's blood run cold. "If I wasn't mad before, I surely am now."

Teilhard glared at him and then broke. "Fine! Have it your way!" Bowden removed the gun and the older man cocked his head towards Murdoch. "Here's the truth, detective. I always knew this bastard was not good enough for my daughter! So I got rid of him!"

Miss Teilhard appeared shocked by this revelation.

"And how did you do that, sir?" asked Murdoch, having a good idea now about this sordid mess.

"I-I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I'm not proud of it but...I arranged to have one of my business rivals...removed by implicating Bowden. I avoided the legal system by paying off the right people and then had him placed in the asylum. Mr. Clarke came up with Bowden's cover story. He's worse than me! He doesn't care one lick if the people there are insane or not-"

"Okay, that's quite enough," said Bowden coldly. "I think the Detective gets the picture."

Bowden shared a look with his ex-fiance and then his face softened slightly. He knelt down beside her and removed her gag.

"I am sorry for all of this, Harriet, but it had to be done. It was the only way to get at the truth."

"If I had known..." she whispered close to tears.

He put a finger to her lips, like Murdoch recalled doing with his wife not long ago.

"I know."

"I knew it!" yelled Teilhard. "I knew you would never hurt-"

"Shut up old man!" they both shouted simultaneously.

Bowden undid the rest of Miss Teilhard's restraints. As she was massaging her wrists, he turned to face Murdoch again.

"Well, detective, I imagine you will want to get moving. You've got a considerable amount of paperwork ahead of you." He held out the weapon. "Take this. I won't be needing the foul thing anymore."

Murdoch stood up and went to the opening in the loft. "We're going to come out now, sir, so don't shoot!"

"All right then, Murdoch!" came back the inspector's incredulous but relieved voice.

"After you," he said gesturing to the pair of them.

Bowden held out his hand and Harriet took it and then they descended the stairs, Murdoch right behind them with the shotgun. Some constables emerged from behind the tractor and attempted to handcuff Bowden. Murdoch waved them off.

"Well, Murdoch," said the inspector, "I don't know what the boody hell is going on," he slapped him on the back, something Murdoch didn't care for, "but good work!"

"Thank you, sir."

"Where's Mr. Teilhard, sir?" asked George.

"Still tied up...something he's going to have to get used to for a long time. As is Mr. Clarke and several police officers."

The inspector and constable shared a look. "I'll inform you of all the details back at the station."

"That's all right, me old mucker," said the inspector, winking and making a strange clicking sound. "I'm sure that can wait till morning." He smirked. "From what Crabtree here said about where you went, I'm sure you'll be needing your rest."

George blanched at the comment but Murdoch remained impassive. "Me old mucker, sir?"

"It means, friend, Murdoch."

He felt strangely moved to hear such a sentiment from his boss. Perhaps it was just his exhaustion finally taking its toll on him.

"Well come on then, let's get the hell out of here! I need a drink!"

"What about Mr. Teilhard?"

"Oh I doubt he's going anywhere." Murdoch continued to stare at him. "Oye!" he snapped at the two other constables."Go get the scoundrel!"


	36. All Good Things Must Come To An End

**I apologize if any of you find this conclusion to be tedious and/or monotonous. I decided this was the only way to do what I wanted to do but I admit it became much longer than I was expecting.**

* * *

About ten months after the Bowden incident, Julia began her career with the city morgue. This decision was mostly made _for_ her as no hospital would hire her, no matter how much her father tried to intervene on her behalf. Originally her position with the morgue was intended to be temporary because she was simply filling in until the department head could find someone or rather, some _man_, to replace the previous pathologist. But no one else seemed to want the gruesome job and they were forced to keep her. No one was very happy about this except for Murdoch. He was thrilled to get to work with his wife and on March 12th, 1894, he got his wish.

The case was a terrible one. An extremely troubled fourteen year old boy by the name of Clayton Bolds murdered both his parents and then hung himself from a tree. Of course, The Murdoch's didn't just look at the scene of the crime and immediately know what had happened. It took almost a week to figure out that the boy had been responsible for everything. The main reason for this delay was because neither Julia nor Murdoch wanted to believe such a young man could have been capable of such a thing. They looked at their four year old son and only saw innocence and goodness. It was hard to imagine that David could ever turn so rotten, let alone in just a decade. But through extensive interviews, Murdoch had learned that The Bolds had been horribly abusive parents. Clayton's best (and only) friend confessed that once The Bolds had locked Clayton in the basement without food or water for several days simply because he had misbehaved a little.

Needless to say, such a case, so soon after starting as a pathologist, did not make Julia want to stick with this career path. But as previously mentioned, she had little choice in the matter. It was either cut up dead bodies or never work a day more in her life. And after everything she went through to get where she was, she just had to suck it up and deal with it. Maybe in time, one of the Toronto hospitals would take note of her impeccable work ethic and decide they had made a terrible mistake in slighting her. Mind you, it wasn't all bad. Within a few weeks she had come to quite like working with her husband and even started to enjoy coming into work everyday, away from their son who she had become extremely attached (almost co-dependent) to since she finished her residency.

Later that year, Julia became pregnant again (and remained so past the two month marker) to the delight of both of them. Somehow her superiors caught wind of this development and they really wanted to get rid of her, stating that it was not safe for someone in her condition to be handling the tools of the trade. Murdoch was pretty sure she would have added a few more bodies to her morgue if he hadn't calmed her down, like the last time an all male board tried to oust her. In the end they decided to keep her on. Julia had a funny feeling that this was only because no one else wanted the job.

On April 5th the following year, their second son was born. Whereas David looked like her, Yannick looked like him, all the way up to his wonderfully luscious eyelashes that Julia simultaneously envied and adored in equal measure. His first word was 'bike.'

That same year Murdoch was assigned a supernatural case involving spirits, and he had firmly believed the medium (Miss Pensell) to be a fraud. Nothing she said or did could change his mind, not until she brought up a certain sentimental conversation he had had with his father before he had changed into a monster and been killed. Murdoch had never told anyone else about this, not even his wife, so there was no way Pensell could have known what Harry had said to him. Not unless she had been actually speaking to his spirit. Julia had become a bit jealous of the woman because Murdoch had gone to her home in the middle of the night in order to get a reading. Murdoch had become a bit jealous of Julia because she had been fawning over the celebrated author, Conan Doyle. That is, up until she heard him give a lecture about the great beyond...then she realized both he and her husband had lost their minds.

Only a week or so later The Murdoch's had a big fight when a case involving homosexuals was dropped in their laps. Julia hadn't seen anything wrong with such a lifestyle but Murdoch had a hard time getting past his Catholic upbringing. He had shouted something or other about their sons, saying that if either of them ever became a sodomist, he would disown them. She had been outraged and almost thrown a heavy (and likely fatal) bowl at his head. In the end they had worked their differences out, if only for the sake of their sons keen feelings.

Murdoch had never been so aware of his class difference with his wife as when a rower had been murdered at a prestigious club. For the first time in a long time, he felt inferior to her and wondered why she had chosen him out of many other potential suitors. It took days for him to stop thinking like an insecure teenager and more like the married man of nine years that he was.

Julia was again annoyed when Miss Pensell came back into the picture. Matters were not helped when her prediction of William's death were divulged. He tried to hide how afraid he was but she could tell that he was very scared (as could David). Seeing him so vulnerable like that started to have unnerving effects on her psyche as well. When her husband was almost killed, she nearly lost her head and frightened their older son badly (Yannick was much too young to understand what was going on). So when the medium declared that she was off to Prague, Julia's heart was lightened considerably, as if the woman were the source of her husband's misfortune.

Not long after what Julia had termed '_The Reaper Killings_', (to the annoyance of her husband) William was again almost killed! This time she managed to function better than the last. At least he hadn't been physically hurt when he had been taken hostage and almost shot and then burned in a barn. Combining this incidence with the Bowden one, Julia had grown a severe dislike of that particular farm structure and swore to never step foot in one if she could help it.

A deranged sequential killer attempted to gut Julia, and Murdoch just about had a heart attack when he dashed into the darkened morgue and found her huddled up, unmoving in a corner. But then time began to flow anew and he noticed that she was indeed breathing and her would be killer was slumped against another wall with a pair of dissecting scissors sticking out of his chest. Still, it was several more seconds before he could take in air and go to his wife's aid. They had left shortly after that, leaving the inspector and George to deal with the dead man. Except for that horrendous crash in _The Pendrick Charger II_, Murdoch had never purposefully killed anyone. As such, he wasn't really sure what to say to Julia in order to make her feel better. Instead he stayed up all night just holding his wife and stroking her hair as she silently sobbed into his chest. For awhile after this Julia acted strangely, as if she were a muted version of herself, lacking that vital spark that was so captivating to him. As usual, David picked up on such a discrepancy and Murdoch did his best to allay their perceptive sons fears, even though he himself was uncertain how long she would be affected by this unfortunate occurrence, just like when they hit their rough patch due to her miscarriages. It was times like these that he wished Guillaume was around to hash things out with. Murdoch settled for talking with Brackenreid and surprisingly the man had a few nuggets of wisdom to offer.

Some time later, long after she was back to her normal self, The Murdoch's underwent a little experiment in the park, involving way too much absinthe and loose morals. If some strollers had not come across them, they would surely have made love right there under a tree, like animals. That's not to say they had never done something like that before. During a camping trip in the summer while their sons were sound asleep with Bobby and John and just a tent away from The Brackenreids, they had snuck off into the forest for just such a rendezvous, finally recreating the erotic experience that had been so abruptly ruined all those years ago during their first date in British Columbia.

An abortionist case had The Murdoch's at odds again, even more so than the homosexual one did. Julia seemed to think it was the woman's right to get rid of an unborn child if that was something she desired or required for whatever reason. He couldn't understand her logic. Firstly because of his beliefs but also because she had had so much difficulty carrying their children to full term. He was sure she would think all life was sacred and not to be trifled with but apparently this was not the case. When Julia's almost love and slight tormentor Isaac Tasch came into the picture and Murdoch believed him to be an abortionist, he was more than happy to send him to the gallows. Seeing Isaac again reminded her of how thoughtful and sweet he had been at first, before everything had become muddled up. And she was quite proud of the boldness of his actions and helping to prevent unnecessary deaths. As such, she wanted to stop his demise. But no matter what Julia said to Murdoch, (including threatening to withhold sex for a long time) he would not listen because he was too angry at her. It was a very near thing but in the end, when Murdoch had regained some of his composure, he had abided by her wishes and left well enough alone. Needless to say, he was not very happy with his decision when his wife started spending time with the man on a regular basis. According to her there was nothing unsavoury going on but he wasn't sure he bought it. If he hadn't been completely certain that Julia would never speak to him again, he would have gone ahead and turned in the baby killer, even at the risk of exposing his own cover up a month earlier. Somehow they worked through their issues, though things were never quite the same after that blow out. A little piece of their relationship was forever lost amidst the chaos of that time, even after they hashed some things out whilst confined to a hot air balloon.

Julia came to learn that the worst feeling in the world was not dealing with the near death of her husband but rather his sudden and lengthy disappearance. For awhile she blamed herself. If only she still bothered to go to church with him, this could have never happened. David had been off playing with some boys after the service, and when he came to find his father, (who was usually having a discussion with the priest) he could not find him! Thus came the most stressful time in their lives, waiting and waiting and waiting some more, until a smelly dog finally found the first piece of the jigsaw puzzle. Two weeks after his disappearance, Murdoch came home to his family and they all rejoiced, Yannick giggling happily even though he didn't know what was going on. By the time she got the full story out of him, she was very jealous of a woman named Anna Fulford but was also touched that his brain damaged mind had remembered her before anything salacious could occur. At least, that's what he told her, claiming Anna would never have let him cheat anyway because he was wearing his wedding ring. Regardless, she had an even better idea of what it felt like to think something untoward was going on with her beloved (the previous time involving his French instructor Chiasson). And considering how Anna was across the sea, she decided to stop visiting Isaac so frequently, something he was not very happy about as they had grown close again over the last while. All she ever seemed to do was let him down but she rationalized it this way: he still had his freedom...and his life thanks to her.

Murdoch had thought that his wife could never get any stranger than the time she had dressed up as a man in order to help him solve a case (when she wore his clothes in private, that was an entirely different matter). He learned in a few years time that he was wrong. The summer after the turn of the century, she had foregone all of her clothing in an attempt to participate in a nudist colony! Murdoch was peeved when his protege and boss caught a glimpse of his wife's naked body. Mostly he was annoyed at her for being there in the buff. She knew that their station house was involved in a case and would likely come across the constabulary in some form or other. His wife made it up to him by renting a room at The Fairmont using an alias and giving him a good work out in which they were as loud as they wanted and no one there cared.

David had been very distraught when his best friend Bobby Brackenreid was taken hostage. Thankfully they had managed to locate him and return the boy to his rightful parents. The Murdoch's hoped to never go through something like that themselves. Unfortunately since Mr. Ogden had given his eldest daughter her inheritance at the birth of his first grandson, this could very well happen...

Not long after this, Murdoch was reunited with one of his oldest friends, none other than James Pendrick! When Murdoch learned that Pendrick had been in town for months and had not called on him, he was dismayed. But when he discovered that the man didn't seem to recognize him or his wife at all, Murdoch was deeply vexed. Sure it had been over a decade since the last time they had seen each other, and sure they had only known each other for a brief span of time, but even so, he had expected _some_ form of recognition from the man! It took Pendrick's wife, Sally, to pick up on Murdoch's distress to bring this issue to the surface. Pendrick was apparently mortified when he realized his mistake and quickly made his apologies, claiming he had had a few too many glasses of champagne. Murdoch didn't buy his story for a second. As far as Murdoch was concerned, Pendrick's actions had been inexcusable! Pendrick must have known he was living in Toronto. Anyone who read the Gazette knew this fact. So when his former partner became a suspected mastermind, involved in a great many deaths, Murdoch immediately assumed he must be guilty. This version of the man he used to know was cold and distant and not at all like he remembered him to be. Whatever hardships he had gone through to make him this way, Murdoch would never learn because he was never going to ask and Pendrick was not likely to tell.

During this same time, Julia had another round of jealousy and outrage when Mrs. Pendrick gave her husband a nude portrait of herself! Granted it was in an abstract form but that was besides the point! She knew he was married with children! William of course pretended like the painting wasn't what she thought it was, calling it a landscape. But she was nobody's fool. She had been to enough art galleries in her younger years to know the difference. And considering William was investigating Sally's husband, it didn't take a genius to figure out who gave it to him. By the end of the case she forced him to give it back, not that he needed much prodding. Even with the painting gone, she was still feeling insecure about herself so she discretely took a few nude photos of herself and stuck them in William's sock drawer. His reaction to finding such scandalous photos was priceless. She never saw them again but was pretty sure he had simply placed them in a more secure location. Still, she became frustrated when her husband apparently had to go to the Pendrick mansion for work on more than one occasion over the course of the next few months.

Julia was surprised (and just a teensy bit flattered) when one of her favourite authors, Mr. Wells started hitting on her. He didn't seem to care that she was (more or less) happily married. When she confided this to Ruby, she simply said, "Oh that's just Berty's way. Don't think on it for another minute, Jules." When the man tried to persuade her to cheat a second time, she became quite annoyed and told him off soundly. Later Julia confided the whole thing to her husband and if Wells hadn't gone back to England already, William would have given him a piece of his mind.

Around this time she was also approached by another man intent on wooing her but for a different capacity. He was a doctor and wanted her on his team at the sick children's hospital in Buffalo. While very tempting, she had to turn him down. She wasn't about to move her entire family to the states simply for herself, even though William claimed he would be willing to do so. After all, it might not be that difficult to transfer to the police force there because he knew one of the detectives. Mostly she decided to stay because Toronto felt like home again, like it hadn't since her mother died.

After another strange death, in which the victims organs were cooked, her husband almost suffered the same fate! And again it happened in a barn! While she was still unreasonable and in a frantic state she demanded that he never go in another and vowed to keep her sons out of barns as well. The good thing about this case was that Sally was found out to be a devious harpy, just like Julia had always suspected but her husband had been blind to this fact, so hurt by Pendrick's brushing him off, he was the only suspect on his list (and in fact, the man would be for several years to come). She tried not to rub it in too much once the case concluded.

About half a year later, Murdoch was reunited with his favourite (and only) French boss and after they worked a case together, they caught up well and good. When asked if he was staying, Guillaume informed Murdoch that he was only here on business and that there was nothing left for him in Canada. Murdoch was understandably upset by that statement but didn't let it show.

In a bizarre coincidence, the woman from Bristol wormed her way back into her husband's life when her fiance was murdered. Julia was irrationally jealous of her and couldn't seem to understand why William had to protect her from the assassin when another police officer could. Her husband reminded her that it was Anna who had saved his life across the sea. Without her, he would have never made it back to his family. After this Julia decided to become friends with Anna but never got the chance as the woman was forced into hiding.

Her husband was a wreck for a very long time when his sister finally came back into his life only to be taken away again. He lamented that he was now the last surviving member of the Murdoch clan, but she informed him otherwise, stating that there were in fact three other members now and soon to be a fourth. The news of her pregnancy helped to soften the loss of his sister. It was almost as if one soul was traded for the other. And when their daughter was born to them the following year, Murdoch was convinced of this fact. Without much thought, they named her Susannah.

Julia decided to take an apprentice during her pregnancy because it was quickly becoming a very difficult one. The sight and smell of blood and guts seemed to be heightened this time around and she could barely stand to be in the same room as the corpses, let alone perform several autopsies a week! Not one to admit defeat or give the department the satisfaction of knowing they were right for once, she hand picked a young woman by the name of Emily Grace to take over whenever the nausea became unbearable. She knew she was pushing her luck with having yet another female in the morgue but Julia didn't care. If the department had a problem with her choice, they could come down there and tell her so...and quickly get chewed out by an irate pregnant lady. No one ever came down.

A few months after his sisters death, they took a trip to the Alberta Badlands and Murdoch was delighted to share such a wondrous place with his family. Little Yannick in particular seemed fascinated by the concept of dinosaurs and stated quite adamantly that he would become an archeologist and explorer.

Pendrick appeared again and this time he was sporting a new fast vehicle, called _The Pendrick Bullet_. Murdoch was sarcastically pleased to note that the man's taste in naming his inventions had not changed much in all of these years. Since he was still bitter about being tossed aside by his former friend, he had no issues whatsoever suspecting him of yet another murder. He was proved wrong and during the investigation Pendrick had intimated that he desired to start their relationship freshly but Murdoch didn't care.

Yet again Miss Fulford somehow got herself mixed up with her husband but this time Julia actually wanted to help her (even if she was an idiot for coming back to Toronto) and so when the time came she was willing to fake her death. It appeared that she would never get a chance to know Fulford better and once more Julia was disappointed. Anna seemed like an interesting person, not afraid to do things that society would frown on.

When his wife was kidnapped by a deranged maniac and then buried alive, Murdoch decided it was best for their family to move away. He wanted to get out of Toronto because it seemed to be cursed and forever causing their family strife. Just like the last time, Julia informed him that she would not be leaving and added that it wasn't the city that was the problem, it was the job. Eventually he relented and they stayed put. Together they watched as Gillies was hung and his evil forever removed from the world.

A man claiming to have invented a time machine started making headlines and Murdoch was forced to investigate what he deemed to be an elaborate fraud. The perpetrator of this fraud convinced him to take a ride into the near future after filling out a suspicious questionnaire about his hopes and dreams. Though the experience had been hard to fathom, he didn't for one second believe he had travelled into the future. Not long after this he proved that it was simply a hoax.

One of the strangest murders involving a plane piloted by a dead pig exploded into Murdoch's awareness. Pendrick was involved somehow and Murdoch was determined to put him behind bars, once and for all. But things were not as they seemed and the man was proven to be innocent. After Pendrick pushed his many years worth of work into Niagara Falls, he again stated that he wanted to be friends with Murdoch and that he was sorry for how he had treated him. This time Murdoch relented and almost sixteen years later they started over.

A psychopath threatened to gas the city and consequently it was evacuated. Julia did not want to leave him there but Murdoch forced her to take the children and go. His logic was simple: if the worst should happen, there was no point in leaving them orphans. After a tearful goodbye with his family, Murdoch had a breakthrough with the case and came to realize that there was no threat after all. Relieved, he apprehended the scoundrel responsible for causing so much mass panic and was soon after reunited with the Murdoch clan.

The Murdoch's continued to have adventures as the years went by but the scales eventually tipped so that it was their children who got into trouble more often than them. Thankfully none of them were ever fatally wounded but there were many close calls, especially in relation to Yannick during his exploration of the world. Years before their middle child went off on his own, Julia was given the reigns of The Toronto Hospital and made sure that important changes were made around the place. Any competent female doctor who wanted a placement was welcome there and Susannah and her friend, oddly enough a blonde haired woman named Anna, applied as soon as they were qualified. So it was that Julia got to work with her daughter on a regular basis and Murdoch got to work with David at the precinct in a similar capacity to how it was with Brackenreid. When the Englishman became Chief Constable, he appointed Murdoch as the new inspector of station house 4, leaving the detective position open for George. And since Higgins had replaced the detective at station house three, David was free to work directly under George. Oftentimes, the constable solved the crimes before his superior but waited for George to come to the same conclusions as him. The only times there was a problem was when George wasn't able to solve the case on his own or he was taking a lot longer to do so. But in those instances, Murdoch usually came to his sons aid and told George what he needed to know without his son having to step out of line and try to run the cases. Therefore for the most part, things were harmonious in the work worlds of all of The Murdoch's.

As for their personal lives, well, there were the usual ups and downs that every relationship is bound to have but Julia and Murdoch were attached at the hip and would never ever let each other go, not until their last breaths, and maybe not even then...

* * *

**Many thanks to all of you who stuck with this for so long. Hope it was worth your while! I also wanted to say that this will be my last story for awhile so feel free to peruse and/or revisit my many other works in the meantime. Ta-ta for now my fellow Murdochians! :)**


End file.
